Under Obligation
by aulizia-and-kirixchi
Summary: Narcissa swore that nothing but the love would induce her to marry but when it falls to her to marry Lucius Malfoy in her sister's stead, will she abandon her dreams for family honour, or can she have both?
1. The Next Mrs Malfoy

**Chapter One**

**The Next Mrs. Malfoy**

"It shows an appalling lack of judgment - inviting one of those people here."  
  
In the gazebo on the grounds of Black Manor, a young woman crouched down into the shadows, hoping that the couple walking would continue on their way. It had taken hours to find a quiet spot, and she wouldn't surrender it willingly.  
  
The girl, Narcissa Black was not a solitary creature by nature. She was easy in the company of others, and enjoyed the spotlight, but as the long-weekend wedding of her cousin Lyra wore on, she had grown weary of the constant presence of others.  
  
Peering through the slats in the wall, the lithe young blonde could just make out the vast, stately proportions of her family's home, Ravensden Hall. In spite of its size, the manor house could barely contain the various extended families and guests that had descended upon it for the event. Even with enlargement charms, the twenty-two bedrooms were no match for the thirty-two guests who were spending the nights.

Narcissa had been evicted from her own chamber, and consigned to the nursery where she shared a bed with two small, but restless cousins. She had passed a sleepless night, followed by an endless, dull morning of enforced good behaviour while she assisted her mother and two sisters with hostessing duties.  
  
Just as things became interesting, however, as the married women began to gossip about their husbands, she was evicted on the grounds of being "too young." Too old to join the youngsters playing on the lawn, she had slipped away to grab a moment of peace.  
  
Now, however, it appeared that peace was about to be shattered.  
  
"I know that you call Miss Wilkins your friend…" Narcissa groaned as the voices stopped just outside the gazebo. "…and no doubt you think that you're being clever, but it really has to end. After we're married…" 

"I am capable of choosing my own friends."

Narcissa's ears pricked; that was her sister's voice. She would recognise it anywhere, even if Andromeda's infinitely patient lilt _did_ sound a little strained at present.

Narcissa shifted her position, pressing one shockingly blue eye to a missing knot in a painted wooden slat as she tried to spy exactly what was going on, and to finally, after a weekend of trying, get a good look at her eldest sister's fiancé.

Andromeda Black and Lucius Malfoy had been betrothed since before Narcissa could remember, probably since before she had been born. However, being so much younger than her sister and her intended, Narcissa had rarely been included in their company on the occasions when Lucius had visited Ravensden Hall with his parents.

At school, for the two years when they had both attended, he had simply been another blond-haired boy Narcissa had passed in the corridors, and then after Lucius had left Hogwarts, he was more often out of the country then in it.

_"How am I meant to fall in love with a man I never see?" _Andromeda frequently bemoaned.

Narcissa was curious to know the answer. Unlike her sisters, Narcissa had escaped the annoyance of having her future husband picked out for her, and she was determined to learn from their misfortune. Lyra's wedding had seemed a perfect opportunity to pick out all the faults in Andromeda and Bellatrix's fiancés that she meant to avoid, except her mother had kept her so busy that she hadn't had a chance.

So, as Lucius railed against Mudbloods, Muggles and blood traitors, Narcissa settled back to catalogue his flaws.

He was too short, topping Andromeda by less than a head (though in fairness he might still be growing), and Narcissa had always preferred dark-haired men. Andromeda's fiancé had hair so blond that it was almost white. She compared him in her mind to her other intended brother-in-law. Her other sister, Bellatrix, was betrothed to Rodolphus Lestrange, a man much more closely matched to Narcissa's idea.  
  
She couldn't help but smile as she thought of the other boy: olive skinned and dark-haired, with deep, brooding chocolate-coloured eyes that Narcissa thought she could have happily stared into for days. She had envied Bellatrix more than once, but she thought she felt a little sorry for her oldest sister. It wasn't that Lucius was unattractive. Objectively, she admitted that he was quite handsome in his way. He had a lean, tightly muscled body, strong features, and an air of healthfulness and strength. He simply looked…  
  
_Cold_. Narcissa's mind supplied after a moment's deliberation. There was something too flat and hard behind his steel grey eyes. They reminded her of mirrors reflecting a winter sky. His posture was icy as well. In spite of the fact that he was scolding her sister (and who could blame him, really? Andromeda had always been shockingly open-minded about half-bloods, Muggle-lovers and their ilk), his posture was deliberately still. He didn't even raise his voice, choosing instead to lecture in the even, condescendingly patient tone that one might use to discipline a child.  
  
"Surely you can understand that your actions reflect on the entire family. As the next Mrs. Malfoy, you-"  
  
"I don't want to be the next Mrs. Malfoy!" Andromeda whined back.  
  
Narcissa gasped automatically. Then she covered her mouth and sank back into the darkness when Lucius frowned and looked around as if he suspected they were being watched.  
  
"What you want is immaterial." Lucius continued after a long pause. "The matter has already been decided, and we'll simply have to make the best of it."

Narcissa listened to Andromeda's very unladylike snort. "I don't _want_ to 'make the best of it'," she shot back at her fiancé. Her little sister could almost picture the way that her arms would be flailing in over-animated circles as she argued against the young man.

Andromeda needed… passion and verve. While she lacked Bellatrix's fire, she possessed a certain vivacious energy. Lucius would surely sap the life out of her! He would freeze that very special spark that lit Andromeda from inside, Narcissa worried suddenly.

"Life is not a fairytale, Andromeda."

Narcissa risked another peek as she fought off a shiver at the cruel, frosty tone of Lucius's voice. He had turned away slightly and was looking back towards the house. Andromeda was staring at him hard, looking rather too desperate and imploring for a Black.

_She just wants to be loved. _Narcissa thought fiercely, with an added pang drawn from sisterly affection. _Just a little. _

And besides, didn't Andromeda have a _right_ to be loved by her husband? Narcissa wondered, showing her age a little in her naivety. _She_ would be loved, Narcissa determined, and swore there and then that nothing but the very deepest love would induce her into matrimony.

Of course, love didn't buy pretty dresses and nice things. It wouldn't put a roof over her head, nor ensure she moved in the very best circles of society, but, with the certainty of a fifteen year old, Narcissa knew her life would not be complete without that most precious of emotions.

How would Andromeda bear it? Narcissa was certain she couldn't.

It might have been different, if their parents weren't so utterly devoted to one another, but the three Black sisters had grown up witnessing a display of matrimonial bliss from their parents.

It was perhaps a little odd then that Mr and Mrs Black had chosen to arrange the marriages of their first two daughters. However, desperate time called for desperate measures.

Narcissa didn't know any family that could top the Blacks for pedigree. They could prove their pureblood ancestry back to the fourteenth century- but in finances, they were easily outmatched. The Blacks had never followed the upper-class fashion of producing a single heir. In consequence, their fortune was stretching dangerously thin.  
  
Orion, Narcissa's father, ought to have married for money. Most of the family fortune was entailed in Ravensden itself, and what little cash he possessed was required to keep his wife and daughters in passable style. No matter how frayed the sofa in the drawing room might become, it was unthinkable that they should miss an appearance at the Races, or arrive at the elegant parties they attended in anything less than the finest clothes. There would be nothing left over for dowries, and the estate would escheat to their cousin, Sirius, when Orion passed away. Narcissa and her sisters had always been aware that they would need to catch a husband with other charms if they intended to have a home and a life of their own.  
  
The Malfoys, on the other hand, had better bank accounts than bloodlines. Julius Malfoy, Lucius's father, claimed ten generations of undiluted wizarding blood, but society remained unconvinced. There were nasty rumours floating around about his great grandfather and an Irish half-blood that all of their money had been unable to hush.  
  
Regardless of their pretensions to purity, it was undisputed that the Malfoys were nouveau riche. Malfoy Manor, and its sprawling estate in Wiltshire, hadn't been built until the eighteenth century, when the Malfoy's secured a monopoly on the Caribbean floo powder trade.  
  
Narcissa had been to Malfoy manor only once. She remembered it as a glittering palace- full of polished marble and gleaming silver. It lacked the character of Ravensden, of course, but to her mind that was compensated, somewhat, by its many comforts. There seemed to be nothing the Malfoy's lacked, save credibility. Perhaps that was why they were so desperate for Lucius and Andromeda to wed. It was a perfect match on both sides. An alliance with the Blacks would catapult the Malfoy's to the very top of the wizarding elite, and Malfoy money would keep a roof over all their heads for at least another generation more. It wasn't romantic, perhaps, but it was life. Narcissa could understand, even if she didn't want to approve.

"Andy!"

A voice was calling across the lawn, Bellatrix's voice to be exact. Her shouts were getting louder as she neared the gazebo.

"Why you allow them to shorten your name to that of a Muggle boy I will _never_ understand." Narcissa heard Lucius sneer beneath his breath. "It _will_ stop, Andromeda."

"I like-" Andromeda began, and it sounded like she was speaking through gritted teeth, only she was interrupted by another shout from Bellatrix.

"Andy! There you are!" The middle Black sounded slightly out of breath. "Ah, and with Mr Malfoy no less."

Narcissa could hear the teasing tone, imagine the sly wink and knowing nudge. She might be the baby of the family, but she really wished that Bellatrix would learn a little restraint and realise that one could not always say exactly what one was thinking. She took, from the sharp tone of Andromeda's reply, that her eldest sister wished so too.

"Is something wrong, Bella? It can't already be time for dinner?"

"There's a letter for you up at the house," Bellatrix answered simply.

"Back at the house?" Lucius interjected softly. "Why, after going to all the trouble of finding your sister, didn't you bring the letter with you Miss Bellatrix?" he enquired lazily.

Narcissa couldn't see his face, but she rather thought he was smirking - a dangerous game to play with Bellatrix, who was positively renowned for her quick temper. She and Lucius had been in the same year at Hogwarts, and as Narcissa understood it, they had shared many of the same friends and spent much of their time together. She assumed he knew what he was doing. It was a pity that _they_ weren't betrothed; Bellatrix might have had more success in thawing the icy Malfoy heir.

"Why, because the bloody-"

"Bella!" Andromeda scolded, askance.

"-owl that delivered it tried to bite my hand off that's why!" Bellatrix finished heatedly. "It seems it won't deliver its message to anyone but you, Andy."

Something like panic flickered across Andromeda's face, but she composed herself quickly and turned to Lucius, "If you would excuse me then, Mr. Malfoy?" She said quickly. Then, without waiting for a response, she darted back toward the house. Bellatrix lingered. Narcissa watched with a raised brow as her sister stepped closer to Malfoy and whispered onto his ear.  
  
Narcissa couldn't make out his expression, or hear his low reply, but her pulse jumped as they ducked toward the entry to the gazebo.  
  
"…tonight." Bellatrix's rich, staccato voice drifted toward Narcissa's ears. "I spoke with father. He is going to be here."  
  
"Him?"  
  
"Yes, he- Narcissa?" Narcissa stiffened as she heard her sister's voice. She stood quickly, dropping the book she had been pretending to read. She winced at the graceless gesture, but quickly recovered, lifting her chin to meet her sister's narrowed gaze. She didn't quite understand the look. Bellatrix appeared unusually rattled, but she was also skilled at hiding her emotions. Almost as soon as Narcissa registered the expression, it was gone. "What are you doing hiding out here?" She demanded.  
  
"I wasn't _hiding,_" Narcissa answered defiantly. "I was merely enjoying the solitude- until I was interrupted." She added pointedly.  
  
Bellatrix looked only half convinced, but she had no way to dispute the charge. Instead of continuing the argument, she turned toward their guest. "I don't believe you've met Mr. Malfoy, Cissy…"  
  
"NARcissa." She snapped, but Bellatrix ignored her and continued speaking.  
  
"This is Lucius Malfoy. Mr. Malfoy- my baby sister."  
  
Narcissa's cheeked burned at the introduction. Baby sister indeed! She was only four and a half years younger than Bella! Still, she refused to be rankled. As coolly as she could manage, she held out her hand to shake. "Mr. Malfoy." She murmured.  
  
Lucius Malfoy let his eyes wander over the youngest of the Black sisters as he took her extended hand. Her touch was warm and her fingers already graceful Lucius noticed as he raised her hand to his mouth, brushing his lips briefly against her soft skin before releasing her.

"Miss Narcissa," he said, nodding his head politely.

His eyebrows quirked momentarily when he saw the way her eyes had widened very slightly in surprise, the way her hand was still hovering in mid-air. The latter was quickly corrected, but she made a little display of brushing the imaginary wrinkles out of her dress, belying her apparent unease.

Lucius found himself smiling very slightly despite the very trying circumstances that had led to this unusual introduction. He wondered how much fun he could have with this little slip of a girl? He rather thought, from her now indifferent stance, that she thought herself a match for him, and this assumption intrigued him greatly.

Having been an only child Lucius had missed out on the pleasure of having a younger sibling to torment, but in Narcissa Black he might find a delightful pseudo-sister. He had already decided to provide the youngest Miss Black with a dowry once Andromeda and he were wed. It was the least he could do for the girl really, still, he never gave something for nothing.

Not that he was considering a romantic dalliance or anything even remotely along those lines! That would be terribly crude, and anyway, although Narcissa would most certainly be a beautiful woman when she matured, she was only girlishly prettily at present and Lucius's taste didn't run to adolescents. No, all he wanted was some occasion entertainment at the tedious family get-togethers he could envisage Andromeda forcing him to attend.

"Well," Bellatrix sighed, breaking Lucius's curious train of thought, there was an irritated edge to her voice that she didn't bother to hide. "I suppose we had better make our way back to the house."

Lucius watched as she shot her sister an annoyed glance, surely giving the other girl the impression that she had interrupted something. Lucius wanted to groan aloud at Bellatrix's lack of discretion, because he was absolutely certain that he wasn't imagining the suspicious narrowing of Narcissa Black's eyes.

"I think it hard on us ladies though," Bellatrix added with a conspiratorial wink at her sister.

Circe, he would never get used to her erratic mood swings! Lucius thought wearily. Even Narcissa looked taken by surprise by this sudden change, and she was the woman's _sister_.

"There being two of us and only one gentleman," Bellatrix continued. "So tell us, Lucius, which of us are you going to escort back to the house?"

He knew what she was hinting. He ought to choose Bellatrix. It was likely the only way that he would hear the end of her news- and the hints had been truly astounding, but he was vexed at Bellatrix and feeling vaguely perverse.  
  
"Ah Bellatrix, aren't you always telling me that you don't need looking after?" He revelled in her blatant shock. "Surely you can find your own way back? After all, you've already survived your harrowing ordeal with the owl and struggled across the lawns on your own once this afternoon."  
  
"Who was the letter from?"  
  
Lucius's grey eyes shifted to the blonde as she interjected. She realized, a second too late, that she shouldn't have spoken.  
  
"You little sneak!" Bellatrix seethed. "You were spying on us!"  
  
He expected the younger girl to cow. There were grown men who shirked from the face of Bellatrix's rages, but Narcissa held her ground. She lifted her chin, ever so slightly and replied in a haughty, unaffected tone. "I have been in the gazebo since lunch. If _some_ people speak with all the lilting softness of a bullhorn than it's hardly..."  
  
"Oh, shut it- little brat!" Bellatrix snapped, her skin was flushed nearly as red as her dress. "What did you hear?"  
  
"That Andromeda got a letter." Narcissa replied, admitting no more knowledge that she had already, accidentally admitted.  
  
"And?"  
  
"And?" She arched a brow, as if inviting Bellatrix to continue.  
  
The older Miss Black balled her fists. Her fingers twitched, as if they were itching for her wand, but she didn't grasp it. She merely released her breath in an angry shriek. Then she spun away, her skirts fanning out around her as she stalked toward the lake. "I'm going to find Rodolphus." She announced with annoyance.  
  
"I'll see you later?" Lucius allowed only the faintest note of emphasis to hide the hidden question in his words.  
  
Bellatrix continued scowling, but nodded her head and responded far less subtly. "There will be people who want to meet you after dinner." Then she flounced around again and stalked away.

Lucius turned back toward the house. He had almost forgotten his promise to escort Narcissa, but she was lingering a few feet away. He moved to where she was standing, and then lifted his arm slightly so that she could curl her own tiny hands around it.  
  
She was more graceful than her sister. Lucius caught himself studying the girl again with approval. Unlike _some_ women of his acquaintance- and perfectly the opposite of Andromeda with her insufferable and unending babbling about relationships and romance and "emotional intimacy"- she did not feel the need to fill the time with chatter. She merely walked beside him, moving with a grace which exceeded her years, and casting her bright blue eyes thoughtfully around the grounds. For a while, he enjoyed the solitude. Then, when he caught himself devoting rather too much attention to sorting out the individual notes in her perfume, he felt the need to speak himself. 

"These are lovely grounds, Miss Narcissa. Do you enjoy the out of doors."  
  
"Somewhat," she replied, "but I like it better at night. I don't like to stand out in the sun."  
  
"Of course." He replied, annoyed that the topic of conversation had fizzled so quickly. Luckily, Narcissa launched on a new topic of her own.  
  
"So," She said as they entered the rose garden immediately adjacent to the house, "You are going to marry my sister."

"Yes," he drawled slowly, carefully, in response.

He watched her nod thoughtfully. It was hardly news, and he hardly needed to answer, but Lucius supposed it was a natural enough subject for Narcissa to want to raise to fill the silence. What else did they have in common after all?

"Do you think you should?" she enquired, those discerningly blue eyes of hers looking up at him curiously.

Lucius's next step faltered, only just noticeably, but he bristled at the little slip in his composure. To further his annoyance, he couldn't tell if she was serious or teasing. So he stared down at Narcissa silently, hoping to impress upon her the impropriety of her question.

And not to escape giving an answer, Lucius amended silently.

Andromeda would make him a perfect wife. Her bloodline was at least six centuries old, her temperament was agreeable, most of the time, and she was considered one of the most beautiful witches of the age. What else mattered?

_Nothing_, was Lucius resolute answer, but he seemed unable to convince Andromeda of that, and doubted he would have any more success with her little sister. Young girls, he had learnt to his irritation, all seemed to harbour ridiculous notions about love and romance.

What _was_ love anyway? He had asked Andromeda once, loosing patience with her. If she could quantify it for him then he would give it some credence. Of course, Lucius thought smugly, she hadn't been able to.

His cold stare seemed to be having the desired effect on Narcissa. The young girl hadn't uttered another word as they walked through the garden, until:

"It's just- you don't seem very well suited."

"And how have you come to that conclusion?" Lucius drawled, frowning angrily.

"Andy's my sister!" Narcissa exclaimed, colouring. "I know everything about her. I know-"

"But what, Miss Narcissa," he sneered cruelly, as they finished passing through the rose garden and finally reached the house, "do you know about me?"

Lucius thought he would enjoy watching her squirm, but Narcissa was spared by the sudden intrusion of her mother's voice.  
  
"Narcissa? Narcissa! There you are!" Mrs. Black paused just inside the door that the two teenagers were about to enter and gestured for her daughter to come inside. "Where have you been? I've been looking for you all afternoon. The other children-"  
  
"Mama!" The girl protested her inclusion in the group of 'children', but the faint whine in her voice gave credit to the charge.  
  
Mrs. Black ignored her. "Mr. Malfoy!" She said brightly, an indulgent smile on her face as she stepped forward to take his arm. "I hope little Cissa hasn't been bothering you?"  
  
A wicked part of him wanted to answer "yes"- or at least to let 'little Cissa' squirm a moment, but he thought better of it. He wanted to toy with the girl- not to mould her into an enemy. She would, after all, be family soon.  
  
"Not at all, Mrs. Black." He said in a silky tone, "All of your daughters are charming."  
  
Regardless of Narcissa's reaction to this remark, in her mother it met its desired response. "I'm glad to hear it." The older woman smiled in approval and offered her son-in-law her arm, Narcissa forgotten as she led him back to the house. "I thought you were with Andromeda earlier?" She said, her voice thick with insinuation.  
  
"Yes." Lucius answered neutrally.  
  
"And I trust she was charming as well?"  
  
"Always." Lucius lied.  
  
"Excellent." He thought he could make out a flicker of relief. "It's so splendid to see young people getting on so well- your wedding is next!"  
  
Lucius nodded his head, focusing more energy on observing Mrs. Black and his surroundings than listening to what she actually said. He noticed that they were taking a circuitous route through the house- sticking to the hallways and rooms of the Manor that had been polished and stuffed with the best furniture to promote the illusion of grandeur. "Where are we going?" He asked when she hovered at the top of the flight of stairs. He had never been this way before, and thought they led to a dungeon.  
  
"My husband wanted to speak with you." She said in a hushed whisper. "It's about...a friend of his that you wanted to meet."

"I see." Lucius's grey eyes intensified, flashing with a keen enthusiasm that had been somewhat lacking during the rest of the day.

Mrs Black offered him a small conspiratorial smile and then began to descent the steps. As Lucius had correctly guessed, they did indeed lead down to the dungeons beneath Ravensden Hall. It was dry and not overly dusty in the lit corridor under the house, there was an air of use about the place.

"My husband has a study upstairs – no doubt you've seen it?" Lucius nodded in the affirmative as Mrs Black glanced over her shoulder at him. "But he likes to keep a room down here too, to use to conduct his more… private business from."

Lucius nodded again. "A sensible decision, no doubt." He stopped behind his future mother-in-law when they came to a dead end. Mrs Black took out her wand and began tapping the stones. Lucius couldn't quite follow the exact combination. "Do your daughters know about this er… private study, Mrs Black?" he found himself asking.

"Bellatrix does, naturally. Andromeda, well you know what Andy's like," she said, flashing him an almost apologetic smile. "As for Narcissa, she's far too young," Mrs Black finished with a dismissive, but not unkindly, wave of her hand, taking a step back as the bricks began to rearrange themselves to form an ornate arch. "Well, Mr Malfoy," she said, waving him forward. "My husband is waiting for you. Do go straight on through."

Lucius nodded, dipped his head respectfully and then walked into Mr Black's dungeon study. It was darker in the room, and before Lucius's eyes had adjusted to the lack of light a voice welcomed him warmly.

"Ah, Lucius, excellent. Have a seat, a drink? No doubt you're eager to hear why I've summoned you here."

..ooOOoo..  
  
Narcissa scowled after Lucius Malfoy and her mother as they disappeared down the hall. She supposed she ought to be grateful that she had been given an excuse not to answer Mr Malfoy's question- after all, what _did_ she know about him?- but she found this small consolation. She had found their conversation surprisingly enjoyable. Even if Lucius Malfoy was an obnoxious, arrogant git, he was the first person who had spoken to her like an adult all weekend!  
  
"Cissy! Come and play!"  
  
"I want to see the ponies Cissy!"  
  
Narcissa entered the kitchens, then immediately turned as a cadre of her tiny cousins began bouncing out of the chairs where they had been sat to drink their juice. It wasn't fair that she had been assigned to eat with the babies rather than the adults! She supposed that she could join her cousin Sirius, and his friends in the hideout they had constructed in the gardener's hut. He and his wretched friend, James Potter, had raided the kitchen and stolen enough food to last a week. They had invited her to partake of their spoils, but her pride would not allow it. Narcissa Black did not eat. She _dined_- on a proper table with proper china and proper silver...and if that table happened to be two feet off the ground and sat with as many dolls as children, well- she renewed her conviction- she'd go to bed hungry instead.  
  
Five hours later, lying awake in her bed, Narcissa had come to regret her decision. It was hard enough to share a mattress with two squirming five year olds (especially ones who "rarely" had accidents!), but impossible with the added distraction of her rumbling stomach. Narcissa tried to ignore it for as long as she could, but it was no use. As the clock downstairs in the front hall struck one o'clock, she threw her legs over the side of the bed, grabbed her dressing gown, and set off in search of food.  
  
Most of the house was fast asleep. The lamps in the hallway had been snuffed, so that the only light was the broad patches of moonlight that drifted through the tall windows of the house. Soft, sleepy sounds occasionally broke the silence, but otherwise she heard nothing until she reached the top of the stairs.

"Is this everything?"  
  
Narcissa stopped abruptly as she heard an unfamiliar voice. Her foot hovered in mid-air above the top-most step as she craned her ears, starting when she recognized her oldest sister's voice.

"It's everything I could get in the trunk." 

And with that Andromeda rounded the corner, followed very closely by a young wizard, levitating a trunk. She stopped dead on seeing her baby sister standing at the top of the staircase.

"Cissa!"

"Andy?"

"What are you _doing_ here?" Andromeda wailed, after a moment of painful silent in which the two sisters simply stared, agog, at one another.

"What am I doing here?" Narcissa repeated in disbelief, watching Andromeda's skin pale in the moonlight as she herself tried to recover from the shock of stumbling upon her sister sneaking around the house with a strange man! "What are you doing here? What is _he_ doing here?" she said pointing a finger at the unfamiliar young man in question. "Who _is_ he?" Narcissa demanded, rather impolitely she had to admit, but she thought her rudeness was excusable given the circumstances.

"_Please_ keep your voice down," Andromeda begged, glancing around nervously. "This is Ted Tonks. He's a… a friend of mine."

Narcissa regarded this _Ted_ suspiciously through the darkness; he had stayed oddly silent so far. "And what is he doing here? And with your travelling trunk!" she hissed.

"Cissa, please calm down, it's not what it looks like, you don't understand," Andromeda said her voice a fast whisper as she hurried to get her words out. "I-I did something stupid- I made a mistake, but Ted's helping me take care of it."

Narcissa raised a doubtful eyebrow. "What kind of mistake?" she asked, eyeing the trunk. Had Andromeda got herself involved in something illegal; it seemed so very unlike her? "Can't you go to Daddy, or Mr Malfoy? Wouldn't they be able to help you?"

"They can't know!" Andromeda squeaked. "Please, Cissa promise me, I'd-I'd be in so much trouble if they knew." Her gaze dropped the to floor, avoiding Narcissa's eyes. "I'll be sorted out by tomorrow morning."

"You promise, you'll be back by then?" Narcissa asked keenly, taking a step closer to her eldest sister.

"It'll all be sorted out," Andromeda nodded, clutching Narcissa's hands.

"That's not-"

"Promise me, Cissa," she pleaded, throwing her arms around her baby sister's neck and holding her close. "Keep my secret, just for tonight? Tomorrow it won't matter."

"Because you'll be back?"

Andromeda hugged her tightly, squeezing the air from her lungs. "I promise it will all be okay in the end," she whispered fervently.

"But _Andy_-" Narcissa gasped, catching her breathed when Andromeda finally released her from her embrace, but her sister was already waving Ted down the stairs, following a second later.

She turned and flashed a weak smile back in Narcissa's direction, and then she was gone, and Narcissa was still standing in the darkness, her hunger forgotten, wondering what on earth she had just let happen.

**_TO BE CONTINUED…_**


	2. The Wedding That Wasn't

**Chapter Two**

**The Wedding that Wasn't**

When Narcissa awoke the next morning, the house was filled with the tumultuous activity of last-minute wedding preparations. Everywhere that she turned, she seemed to be stepping over an aunt or a cousin scurrying about with bouquets of flowers, plates of food, or yet another large, elaborately wrapped gift.

No one who lingered, it seemed, was safe from being assigned a duty. Most of the gentleman disappeared for a morning of sport (which Narcissa rather suspected to mean they Apparated back to London for their clubs, intending to pass the morning smoking their pipes and reading the morning Gringott's report while their wives dashed about back at the manor.) Even Bellatrix was stuck directing temporary servants who were levitating the decorations into place. Narcissa scanned the crowd for Andromeda, but it quickly became clear that she would be impossible to find until things calmed down. She could speak with her sister then. For the present, she decided to escape back to the gazebo until it was time to get dressed. 

Ultimately, hunger drove Narcissa back to the house earlier than intended. Her dinner came at the price of shepherding the youngest children for the last two hours before their mothers came to collect them and put on their clothes. The task was even more tiresome than usual. Some of the furious energy inside the house seemed to have transferred to their little bodies, so that they were nearly impossible to contain.

At last, just past six, Narcissa's mother signalled that she could go upstairs to dress. The blonde hurried up to her parent's bedroom where her gown was stored, and where she had been given permission to change. Narcissa sighed happily when she stepped into the lushly dark and silent room. It felt like heaven after the day she had passed, and it took all her willpower not to sink into the deeply tufted mattress on her parent's bed. She continued to the en suite bathroom where her dress was hung.

She scrunched her nose at the mint green organdie that her mother had selected. She was grateful that her mother had permitted floor-length robes- she really _would_ look like a baby with her ankles showing- but the high ruffled neck and long puffy sleeves struck Narcissa as dowdy. She looked enviously at her sisters' gowns. As usual, Bellatrix had selected a simple sheath of deep claret. Andromeda had decided on pink. Narcissa started a little when she realized that Andromeda's dress wasn't gone. Since she needed to take extra care with her appearance (what, with the Malfoys present), she had been allowed to stay in her own room. Why hadn't she come to take it away? The youngest Black felt a prickle of dread as she recalled the night before. _Bellatrix's dress is still here too._ Narcissa consoled herself with the thought, and then concentrated on the task at hand.

Narcissa might have been stuck with an unfortunate dress, but she was very pleased with her hair. She had stolen a copy of "_Spellbound_" from her sisters and copied one of the styling charms so that her pale blonde locks fell in soft waves around her face, held in place by a sparkling clasp in the shape of stars.

Since no one else arrived to stop her, Narcissa decided to be daring, and steal a bit of her mother's rouge. Then, when she was finally satisfied, she left the room and headed downstairs. Many of the guests who had not spent the weekend were beginning to arrive. The wedding was in the gardens- the house could never contain everyone- but it was too hot until the sun went down, so most of the early guests lingered inside. Narcissa's gaze skimmed over the crowd, picking out the faces she knew. She waved to Iris Spellman and Polly Waxwing, two of her housemates at school and returned a rude face to her cousin, Sirius Black. She was about to head for Rodolphus Lestrange when her gaze caught curiously on someone else: Lucius Malfoy. 

He was standing a little apart from the general crowd, which Narcissa found a little odd. Given who he was, she assumed his exclusion from the hubbub had to be voluntary, Narcissa puzzled over this as her eyes lingered. Lucius's own steely gaze was lazily scanning the room. There was no hint of anxiety in his face. There was no hint of anything, but Narcissa had suddenly registered the empty space by his side.

Andromeda!

Or more particularly, a definite _lack_ of Andromeda. Narcissa's breath caught in her throat. She should have noticed her sister's absence from Mr Malfoy's side immediately, except, there was something so self-sufficient about Lucius. He wasn't like other men, in need of a pretty partner to give the illusion of wholeness.

_Poor Andy_, Narcissa thought, and then _poor me_, when Lucius saw and focused on her. She flashed him a weak little smile that was not returned as he crossed the room towards her. She wanted to run away and hide, or, as that was a rather childish desire, make a plausible excuse and leave his side immediately.

There was something oddly ensnaring about Lucius Malfoy's attention though and plans of escape where horribly reluctant to present themselves to Narcissa.

"Miss Narcissa." Lucius dipped his head in greeting. His eyes skated calmly over her figure, coming quickly to rest on her face. "I wonder, could you possibly tell me where Miss Black is hiding?"

"No," Narcissa blurted before she had given herself a moment to stop and think.

"No, you won't tell me?" Lucius repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I can't," Narcissa amended, "I don't know where Andromeda is." She smiled as brightly as she could manage.

Narcissa _wished_ she didn't know anything about Andromeda's midnight escapade; she wasn't exactly lying to Lucius, but she was being selective with the truth and she didn't like to imagine what might happen to her if he should ever find out! And what had happened to Andromeda anyway? Where was she? Narcissa's stomach turned over – what if she had gotten herself into even more trouble? What if she was hurt? What if-?

"You nor anyone else," Lucius drawled, halting Narcissa's catalogue of concerns. His eyes narrowed, a gleam of suspicion lighting their depths. "You're quite sure you don't know what might be detaining her?"

Narcissa shook her head "no", wilting a little under his scrutiny. He was so forceful- she couldn't imagine anyone refusing his demands for long. She reminded herself that she was a Black, and that she had promised, and was strong.

With a sniff of annoyance, Lucius glanced away. Then, without saying goodbye, he turned and melted back into the crowd. "Who was _that_?" One of Narcissa's friends from school eased to her side, hooking her arm through Narcissa's own. "Lucius Malfoy." Narcissa informed her. "My sister's fiancé." "Lucky Andy!" The girl gushed, failing to notice as her companion frowned. 

Narcissa had a sinking feeling that Andy would need more than luck to save her when her fiancé found her next. She was probably out with one of her Mudblood friends going to a supermarket, or "bowling" (whatever that was), or playing another one of their stupid Muggle games. Malfoy and her parents would be furious if she didn't get back soon. Andy had to arrive before the wedding.

Once again, however, Narcissa's hopes went unfulfilled. Her alarm rose steadily when they moved to the garden. She sat with her parents in the third row- an empty chair next to Bellatrix staring up at her accusingly.

"Where _is_ that girl?" Orion said tersely when he noticed his eldest's absence.

Mrs. Black looked worried too, but she was reassuring, "I'm sure she's with Mr. Malfoy. Isn't it splendid how well they get along?" But Andromeda wasn't with Lucius either.

Narcissa knew that it was crude, but she craned her neck around and skimmed the crowd. Malfoy was next to his father, and Andromeda was nowhere in sight. Narcissa couldn't concentrate as the ceremony began. It passed in a blur as her thoughts raced. What had happened? Where had Andy gone? What had she done? She would surely be discovered if she didn't return immediately.

"Narcissa, run upstairs and find your sister." Mrs. Black said as soon as the ceremony was through and they had stepped forward to congratulate their cousin and her new husband. The guests were heading back to the house for supper and cake. "I hope you sister isn't unwell."

_  
If she wasn't, she would be soon_, Narcissa thought as she started up the staircase. She didn't want to think of what Andromeda's punishment would be. She wasn't able to contemplate the matter for long. She had just reached the first landing, when a scream pierced the air.

Some screams freeze the blood, they settle like a leaden weight in the pit of the stomach, working their way through the body like a fast-working poison - it was this kind of scream that met Narcissa's ears. She felt ill. Panic, fear and dread clenched around her heart as her feet carried her at a run back downstairs towards the desperate cry.

By the time she reached the bottom of the staircase and rushed into the best of the formal receiving rooms a little crowd had already gathered. Narcissa, thankful for her petit frame, was able to squeeze herself past the guests and work her way to the very front of the crowd without much difficulty.

To her surprise, and further distress, it was her mother who was at the centre of the commotion. She was standing before the old Black family-tree tapestry that hung proudly on one of the walls of the room... and she was crying. Bellatrix's arm was around her shoulder, whispering something fast and low into her mother's ear, but Mrs Black would not, could not, be moved. She barely even seemed to register her daughter's presence.

"Mama!" Narcissa exclaimed rushing forward, taking up her mother's hands in her own. "What is it? What's wrong?" she demanded instantly, forgetting the crowd that was keenly watching the whole, extraordinary spectacle. Mrs Black simply shook her head and sobbed harder. "B-bella?" Narcissa stammered, turning to her sister. She had never seen their mother cry before – it was devastating, crushing.

"Look," Bellarix hissed, barely moving her lips as she nodded just perceptibly in the direction of the tapestry. Narcissa blinked; Bellatrix's skin was deathly pale, but there was an oddly bright fire burning in her eyes that almost frightened Narcissa. She tugged her own eyes away and glanced at the tapestry obediently.

Her gasp was clearly audible. "No, no, she wouldn't have, no," Narcissa whispered numbly, shakily her head, acutely aware of the crowd again, of their whispers and stares.

They could all see, as plainly as she could, that a new name had magically added itself to the tapestry - sitting neatly beside Andromeda, proclaimed as her husband for the whole room to see, was written _Ted Tonks_. Narcissa suddenly knew, because of the hush that fell over the room, that the presence she could feel by her side her could only belong to one person: Lucius Malfoy.

Narcissa's first instinct was to shrink away, but she found that her feet were rooted in place. She was completely powerless to move or even speak. Like the rest of the onlookers, she could only gape.

If Malfoy felt the scrutiny of a hundred eyes upon him, he did not show it. His cool façade was as placid and unreadable as ever. Chin lifted, features composed, his grey gaze skimmed over the tapestry. Narcissa, along with the rest of the room, held her breath. She didn't know what she expected. Since the first time she had met him, Lucius had reminded her of a sheathed sword, or of a bow drawn, but held in place. He was powerful, but restrained all the more dangerous because one never knew when-or how- he would strike. She had no doubt that he would. They would all suffer for this.

As some of her shock wore off, Narcissa began to contemplate the awful consequences of what her sister had done. No one bothered to suggest that the tapestry was wrong. It never was. Andromeda had gotten married. The Malfoys would be furious- and the Blacks hopes of regaining their fortune were dashed. But there was something worse. Narcissa didn't know for sure, but it didn't seem possible that her sister's new husband was a man of their class. All of the decent people- pureblood wizards who supported the cause- were people that Narcissa knew. She couldn't ever remember meeting the boy who had been with her sister the night before, and she didn't recognize the name Tonks.

"Isn't that a Muggle name?" Someone near her whispered indiscreetly, voicing Narcissa's deepest fear.

Something flickered in Malfoy's eyes, but his control remained unbroken. His gloved fingers tensed around a cane he was holding in his hands, and his features twisted into an ugly sneer. "Idiot girl." He spat darkly. Then he turned and stalked away.

As soon as Malfoy was gone, voices began to buzz again.

"...mudblood who was with her at school."

"...haven't seen her all day..."

"...Black always was too lenient..."

Narcissa's head spun as she was assaulted by voices from every side. Her mother started wailing again. Her father and uncle were shouting. Her aunt was shrieking. Cousin Lyra was crying over her ruined wedding. In the hubbub, Narcissa was forgotten, and she seized her chance to escape. Gathering her skirts in her fingers, she flew up the stairs and continued to her original destination: Andromeda's room.

The door was standing open, but in her acute distress Narcissa failed to notice the significance of this clue. She burst straight into the room, drawing a quick, sharp breath when she found that she was not alone. Lucius Malfoy was standing facing the window, his back to the door, his eyes fixed firmly on something outside.

He didn't turn toward Narcissa, although he must have heard her less than quiet entrance. She stood stock-still, wondering if she should speak, wondering if she should leave... wondering exactly how it was that Lucius knew how to find her sister's bedroom...

Narcissa took a backwards step; she certainly wasn't the right person to be with Lucius right now. She didn't have the smallest clue what might be the right thing to say. Perhaps she might have felt differently if she was less upset herself, perhaps if she hadn't feared that Andromeda's _selfishness_ had ruined the family's reputation irrevocably. Narcissa felt like her family's celebrated name was crumbling down around her feet. How would they ever pick themselves up? They didn't have the money to ease such a disgrace, to silence the whispers and present an unaffected air to the world.

"She left a letter."

Lucius's voice sliced through the silence like a knife blade. Narcissa started, unprepared to hear him speak.

"Oh?" she murmured, feeling foolish for not being able to offer anything more.

Still refusing to turn and look at her, Lucius nodded his head in the direction of Andromeda's dressing table - there sat a little pink envelope. Narcissa crossed the room obediently, her fingers shaking ever so slightly when she picked up the note. It hadn't been address to anyone in particular. Whoever found it was meant to open it apparently. Except it wasn't open, the seal remained intact.

"You haven't read it?" Narcissa gasped in surprise.

"What could she possibly have to say to atone for what she's done?" Lucius snarled, finally turning to look at Narcissa.

"She..." Narcissa started to explain but almost instantly, she faltered. Lucius was right- what could Andromeda possibly have to say? She had plunged a knife into their hearts, and then ran away without waiting to watch them bleed.

A part of Narcissa thought that she should crumpled the letter up and throw it away, while another felt that she should carry it to her parents, but the largest part of her mind was curious. So, with trembling fingers, she opened it and read: 

_To whomever finds this letter:_

_By the time you read this, I will be gone..._

Almost automatically, Narcissa felt tears spring to her eyes. Andromeda certainly was gone- far beyond where she was ever likely to be reached again! It stung Narcissa that her oldest sister had lied the night before- she never intended to come back at all! _No, that isn't entirely true. She didn't lie_, Narcissa reminded herself. Andromeda had promised that things would be sorted out. Perhaps they were to Andromeda's satisfaction. Shaking, Narcissa read on:

_I am going to Gretna Green to marry Ted Tonks..._

Narcissa scrunched up her nose. She had never heard of the place. It must be Muggle. 

_Ted and I are in love._

_  
_Stupid Andromeda! Narcissa could already guess what the rest of the letter contained. She was so caught up in her stupid ideas of romance. Her little sister wanted to be in love too- but not at any price!

_We are in love, and he treats me very well. You will like him very much when you finally meet him..._

_  
_Not likely.

_but I am going to wait a bit for things to calm down before I bring him home._

There, at least, was a small display of wisdom. Narcissa brushed away a tear before she continued. 

_I am very sorry for how much trouble this has probably caused. It was never my intention to hurt anyone. Mr. Malfoy is a perfectly respectable man, and I am sure that he will make someone who shares his views a perfectly respectable husband, but I cannot be his wife. If it was only my own happiness to think about, I might have managed, but my heart has already been given to someone else. Even if it hadn't been, I don't think that we would have been happy._

_  
I know that the family needed the money. Ted doesn't have much, but we will help where we can. Please let my family know that I love them all. Tell Mother and Father not to blame themselves. They have always been so happy together, that I can't help but want that for myself. They taught me never to settle, and I won't. Tell Bellatrix that hope she will forgive me soon, and please tell little Cissa that I will miss her. Finally, please let Mr. Malfoy know that I am sorry, but surely he understands that this is for the best._

_   
  
Sincerely,  
  
Andromeda Black (Tonks)_

Narcissa clenched her eyes shut after she read the signature, astonished that her sister had dared the final insult. Automatically, her fingers curled around the parchment edge, crimping it beneath her hands. "Well?" Malfoy drawled in a disinterested tone, but it must have been a ruse. It took a moment for Narcissa to compose a reply. "She only said goodbye." She explained. Then, as if she believed it might pacify him, she added, "She said to tell you that she is sorry and that you will make a good husband for someone else..."

"Charitable of her to say so," Lucius sneered. "Someone whose tastes are less Muggle-inclined, perhaps?" he added acidly.

Narcissa gulped uneasily. Of course, the fact that Andromeda had chosen a Mudblood over him had to be the ultimate form of insult to a man like Lucius Malfoy. She thought that _maybe,_ just maybe, she could see the suppressed anger crackling away beneath the icy pools of his eyes. He had to be angry surely, hurt and upset? He had to feel _something_?

But Narcissa found that she had to look away from Lucius's face long before she had any chance of deciphering him. Her gaze automatically fell on the letter again. She reread it slowly, her heart aching with each and every line.

"I don't think she realises exactly what she's done," Narcissa whispered to herself, a little surprised when Lucius actually responded.

"Oh? And what is that, Miss Narcissa, what has she done?" he asked, lips quirking a cruel smile. She lifted her eyes to his once again, bright with unshed tears they held him motionless.

"Ruined us," Narcissa choked. "She has disgraced herself, and her whole family will all have to share in her downfall. I-I..." she ground to a halt, staring at the floor as she blinked furiously, embarrassed to have dropped her guard so thoroughly in front of Lucius, especially when he was by far the most guarded person she had ever met!

But the consequences of Andromeda's actions seemed so very vivid at that moment – Narcissa felt like she had lost her sister forever, felt like she had had all of her dreams snatched away from her before she had even been given a chance to fully realise them! She felt so _old_.

Nothing would ever be the same again, she understood mournfully.

Narcissa started when she felt the steady, warm pressure of a hand on her shoulder. She was once again staring up into Lucius Malfoy's unfathomable eyes, only this time they were much closer, and – perhaps she was only imagining it – but a touch softer too?

"I'm sure things won't always look quite so bleak."

It was kind of Lucius to say so, inexplicably so, but he was wrong.

"I'd better take this to mama." Narcissa said, looking down at the letter because she couldn't bear to hold his gaze. The letter wouldn't matter. It didn't provide any more information than they already had, and it couldn't possibly make things any better, but at least it gave Narcissa an excuse to slip away.

"Goodbye, Mr. Malfoy." She said in a quiet voice as she headed toward the door. She looked back over her shoulder, taking a snapshot in her mind. She knew that she would never see him again. 

  
..ooOOoo..

By the time she went downstairs again, someone had dragged her mother out of the parlour. The guests were all quickly making their excuses, filling the house with the busy noise of packing and quickly contrived excuses. Lyra's wedding was ruined. Narcissa wanted to feel sorry for her but, consumed by her own grief, she lacked the energy to gather sympathy for anyone else.

Soon, the house was deserted except for the London Blacks and Mr. and Mrs. Lestrange. They convened in her father's study, locking the door behind them, so that the children outside could make out nothing more than the rise and fall of voices within. Sirius and Regulus had gone upstairs, trying to use an eavesdropping charm through the floor, but Narcissa, Bellatrix and Rodolphus remained on the stairs. The older couple were sitting close together, whispering in worried tones as the night wore on. Narcissa assumed that the Lestranges had stayed to discuss their son's engagement. Already pureblooded elite, they had very little to gain from an alliance with the Blacks. Perhaps they wanted to call the marriage off? If so, Narcissa felt sorry for her middle sister. She couldn't imagine Bellatrix in love, but there was an obvious attachment between she and Rodolphus, and they seemed uniquely suited to one another's temperament. It would be cruel to keep them apart- but then, Narcissa was beginning to realize that life _was_ cruel. If the Lestranges reneged on their agreement, surely it would only be the first snub they were forced to endure when news of Andromeda's infamous behaviour had spread?

The hours dragged past, but no one suggested dinner, or made an effort to move. The voices in the study were still sounding back and forth. Narcissa thought they sounded louder and angrier than before. They paused for a moment as an intrepid elf ventured inside with the evening edition of the _Daily Prophet_, then they exploded again.

"...no longer my daughter!" Narcissa shook as her father's voice boomed through the house, loud enough to be discerned through the heavy plaster walls. She looked warily to her sister, but Bella barely had time to return a glance before the mahogany door to the study burst open, jarring on its hinges as it was flung back against the wall.

"Orion, _don't_!" Narcissa's mother shrieked her bright blue eyes the merest slits on her puffy, tear streaked face. She grabbed at his wand arm, but he shook her off with a sneer.

"You know it has to be done." Narcissa's aunt pulled the other woman away, looking haughty and pleased.

Uncle Rigel nodded, "It's the only thing to be done." Narcissa suddenly realized that they were walking toward the parlour. Curious, if wary, she scrambled to her feet, moving just quickly enough to arrive as her father stalked toward the tapestry on the wall.

"No! _No!_ Don't! Please!" Narcissa's mother continued to howl, but her aunt and uncle held her in place as Orion drew his wand.

"_Ex patria!_' He said in a commanding boom. There was a flash of purple sparks, and then the room was silent save the sound of Mrs. Black's wrenching sobs.

Narcissa gaped. Her hand was shaking as she reached up to cover her open mouth. Her father's wand had been pointed to Andromeda's name. Now it was gone. Only an ugly scorch remained.

  
..ooOOoo..

Conventional wisdom always held that "Time heals all wounds" but Narcissa began to doubt that this was the case. In the grim days that followed Andromeda's defection, things only seemed to get worse. It started the next morning at breakfast when the _Daily Prophet_ social page blared, "**Malfoy Heir Thrown Over For Muggleborn**".

Narcissa pushed the paper away, unable to bring herself to read what would surely be a damning report of the whole terrible affair of the previous day. Bellatrix it seemed was not quite so squeamish, she took up the paper and began to pour over it.

"Well, we might as well get used to it, Cissa," she explained with a hardened shrug, catching her little sister's disapproving glance.

Narcissa couldn't help herself, she didn't touch her breakfast - instead she studied Bellatrix as she read, watching every flinch and wince. Still, Bellatrix seemed to be coping frighteningly well. It was almost as if she had somehow managed to shut the corner of her heart that had once been open to Andromeda. She cared only for the damage done to the family that remained dear to her.

"Well, at least we're not the only ones they're ripping to shreds," Bellatrix announced once she had finished reading.

"What do you mean?" Narcissa asked quietly, although she could guess.

"Let's just say that I wouldn't want to be at the Malfoys breakfast table this morning for all the cauldrons in England," Bellatrix snorted, reaching for the teapot with one hand, the other still holding the Daily Prophet. "Listen to this, Cissa." She cleared her throat and then began to read aloud: "'Tonks _may be a Muggleborn (and what, this reporter would like to know, is wrong with that?)"_ Bellatrix paused to pull a face, "_but while Julius Malfoy has always claimed his family can trace-'"_

"Bellatrix Black! Put down that trashy tabloid immediately!" Orion Black bellowed. He had just entered the breakfast room. He stormed across to his daughter and tore the paper out of her hand. Narcissa bit her lip, Bellatrix looked too shocked to resist, she couldn't remember the last time their father had raised his voice to either of them.

Both girls watched in shaky silently as he settled himself at the head of the table, helping himself to a hearty portion of bacon, eggs, a few slices of fried bread and some black pudding. How he could bear to eat Narcissa couldn't fathom, all she had managed was to nibble at a slice of toast. She supposed everyone coped differently though.

"Where's mama?" she asked softly, once her father had taken a few bites to eat. He looked at her for the first time all morning.

"She's... resting." His eyes lingered on his youngest daughter for quite some time, for so long in fact that she wanted to sink beneath the table and hide. Whatever could he be thinking?

"Narcissa, are you planning to wear those robes today?"

She frowned at the odd question. She couldn't recall a single time before when her father had commented on her attire, except for a general declaration that she was "very pretty, princess" when specifically asked. She looked down at her garments, trying to discern what had earned a comment. Her dress certainly wasn't the height of fashion- she expected to spend the entire day at home, after all, but it was stylish and well cut: a dark grey overrobe fastened over a slightly paler ankle-length dress embroidered with tiny leaves. "I had thought so, father." She answered warily. "Shall I change?"

"Yes." He answered to her astonishment. "Where's that dress Andromeda was meant to wear to the wedding?"

Narcissa's alarm continued to grow. She met her sister's eyes across the table, but the glance revealed that Bellatrix was as perplexed as she.

"And have your sister help you with your hair and a little bit of makeup."

"Daddy?" Narcissa asked in a worried tone. Her father certainly seemed to be his normal self- a bit more subdued than usual, but that was to be expected- but was it possible that stress over Andromeda had pushed him beyond his senses?

He arched a brow, annoyed at being questioned, but he answered nonetheless, "We're expecting company this afternoon," he announced. "I'd like you to look your best...maybe a little bit older." He mumbled cryptically, but then returned his attention to his meal, picking up the paper that he had recently decried as a "trashy tabloid" and staring at it with a feigned interest that imparted, very clearly, that the subject was closed.

After breakfast, Narcissa and Bellatrix slipped from the room, staring at each other wide-eyed as they climbed up the stairs to do what they were told.

"Who do you think is coming to visit?" Bellatrix asked as soon as they had slipped out of earshot of the breakfast room. "And what do you think they want with you?"

Narcissa merely shrugged. She noticed that her sister had not been ordered to improve her own appearance. This implied that the guests might have a special interest in Narcissa- but why? Was it possible that her father knew that she had seen her sister sneak away? Was she going to be punished? _No, that didn't make sense_, Narcissa admitted to herself, but it did nothing to soothe her nerves.

Upstairs, Bellatrix brought Andromeda's gown into Narcissa's bedroom. The soft, candy pink was a better match for Narcissa's complexion than her older sister's, though the low-cut neckline and tight bodice which had been fashioned for the older girl made her feel chilly and a little exposed. After she was dressed, Bellatrix pinned up her hair, and then dabbed a bit of rouge and lipstick onto her sister's face.

They had just finished when a battered elf poked his head in the door. "Master wants Miss Narcissa in his study." It squeaked.

Narcissa shot an imploring glance at Bellatrix, but the elf was already tugging on the hem of her dress and leading her out into the hall. She hadn't a clue what her father might want, and ignorance always made her nervous. It seemed that in no time at all she was standing outside the large mahogany door of her father's study, the elf knocking on the wood.

"Come in," Orion Black's voice called from inside. Narcissa brushed by the elf and pushed open the door, entering the familiar surrounds of the room.

"Ah Cissa, you look," she waited anxiously for her father's verdict as he regarded her thoughtfully, almost sadly it seemed, "_perfect,_ just the transformation I was hoping for."

"Daddy?" Narcissa gaped. _What transformation? What had been wrong with the way she had looked before?_ "I-I don't understand."

"Take a seat, petal. There's something we need to talk about." Orion had been standing by a cabinet, an empty glass in his hand, but when Narcissa sat in the seat in front of his desk, he moved to take up the opposite chair. "The events of yesterday... well, they've changed things." Narcissa nodded her blonde head. She knew that of course, so why a tingling of dread had settled in the pit of her stomach she couldn't explain. "For you more than anyone perhaps."

"For- for me?" Narcissa repeated, the colour draining from her face. He had to know that she'd seen Andromeda. He was going to punish her after all, she was certain!

"The Malfoys are- well, they are a very powerful family. Though it pains me deeply to say so, they are far more powerful than the Blacks." Narcissa nodded silently again, she didn't quite understand. Yes, of course the Malfoys were powerful, and dangerous a little voice whispered, but what did that have to do with her? "We _need_ them, Cissa. They _wanted_ an alliance, but they can survive without us. I am not certain that the reverse is true."

"What do you mean, Daddy?" Narcissa asked softly, her brows knotting in a frown.

"We cannot afford to lose the Malfoys as allies, Narcissa. So you see," Orion paused and took a deep breath. Narcissa leant forward in her chair, holding her breath as she waited to hear what her father was going to say next. "I want you to take your sister's place."

"W-what?" Narcissa stammered, her mouth hanging agape.

"I want you to marry Lucius Malfoy."

Narcissa stared, for a full minute she simply stared at her father, and then her head began to unconsciously shake in the negative. Orion Black flinched.

"Not now, not for _years_. But Cissa, sacrifices have to be made. I know it's not fair, I know it's not what you want – frankly, I don't want it either – but it must be done, Narcissa. What do you say?"

Narcissa felt as if she'd been struck by a hex. All of her breath seemed to leave her body, and for the moment, she could only stare. What did she say? What could she say? She hazarded a glance to her father's face, and immediately wished that she hadn't. It was so painfully obvious what he wanted her to say- what he needed to hear her to say. She had never seen her father appear so desperate, and this sign of his weakness filled her with a fear deeper than any she had ever known before.  
  
"I don't think Mr. Malfoy likes me very much." She finally managed, almost in a whisper, holding her body very still.

Orion forced a smile. "Don't be silly, petal." He said, reaching forward to brush her cheek in a gesture that was probably meant to be casually reassuring, but felt painfully forced instead. Narcissa recoiled from the cold touch of his hand. "I'm sure he'll adore you. Everyone does. Besides. You're a lot better suited to Lucius than your sister was."

Narcissa rather doubted this. If it was true, why hadn't he promised her to Lucius from the beginning? But she wisely held her tongue.

"This is an opportunity for you, Cissa." Orion said, shifting tactics in the face of Narcissa's stony expression. "Mr. Malfoy will be able to buy you lots of pretty things. Won't that be fun, to have whatever you want? You can have a pony, and trips to Paris, and anything your heart desires."

"But-" She started to protest. How could he ask her to put her heart for sale?

She was going to say so, but to her father's immense relief, they were interrupted. "Miste

rs Malfoy her to see you, sir." A houseelf squeaked, poking its head through the door. Orion jumped to his feet. "Excellent. Show them in."

Narcissa met her father's face in panic. The Malfoy's were here already? Then she saw his sheepish gaze and understood. It didn't matter how she felt. Her fate had already been decided.

  
..ooOOoo..

_To Be Continued_

**A/N: To answer a question that was raised- we assume that Ted Tonks is a Muggleborn (wizard born to two Muggle parents) rather than an actual Muggle or a Halfblood. **


	3. The Consolation Prize

**Chapter Three**

**The Consolation Prize**

Lucius Malfoy followed in his father's wake, glaring darkly at the house-elves they passed as they were led deep into Ravensden Hall. He frankly would have preferred to never lay eyes on the house again. The bitter taste of the humiliation he had suffered there was still too fresh in his mind for comfort, but his father had been intrigued by Mr. Black's owl requesting their presence (after all, what could the Blacks possibly have left to say?), and the promise of watching Orion beg for forgiveness finally persuaded Lucius to come. Nevertheless, he didn't pretend to be happy about it. He muttered darkly as they wove through the narrow halls, finally free to sneer at the shabby furniture and the peeling paper on the walls. The Malfoys were going to crush the Blacks. Lucius didn't care how pure they were. Orion was still in favour with Voldemort- and that afforded protection to a degree, but there were other ways to make them suffer- methods which Lucius had afforded a great degree of thought. 

The Malfoys were shown into the study, where Orion Black was standing behind his desk. Lucius sneered at the falsely bright smile on the older man's face.

"Julius! Lucius! Won't you come in?" he greeted, gesturing toward a pair of chairs beside the desk and pouring from a decanter of port. "Thank you for coming so quickly. I trust that you are all doing well?"

"Don't you read the bloody _Prophet_, Black?" Julius snarled. His son sneered at the over-emotional display. His father had taken the news almost harder than himself- but then, Julius had always been more concerned about the rumours besmirching their pedigree. Lucius privately thought that if his father would pay them less mind, they were far more likely to go away. 

"Yes. I saw the article. Most unfortunate." Mr. Black said brusquely and concentrated on pouring the wine. Lucius was pleased to see that his hands were shaking. A few drops of ruby liquid spilled over onto the desk. "That's why I've asked you here today?"

"What in ruddy _hell_ are you going to do about it?" Julius bellowed.

Lucius was about to voice his own, drier but equally scathing query to the same effect, but he was distracted. 

Orion was pouring _four_ glasses.

Automatically, Lucius's head swung around. At the same instant, Mr.Black noticed his gaze.

"Ah...yes...gentlemen. I'm not sure you've met my daughter? Julius, Lucius- this is my youngest, Narcissa."

"I'm not sure we _want_ to meet any more of your daughters," Julius snorted the insult, his merciless eyes boring in to the young girl.

Lucius watched Narcissa recoil just a little, and listened as her father hurried to her defence. "Now Julius, I won't have you insult my-"

"Miss Narcissa," Lucius drawled lazily, dipping his head in her direction and interrupting Mr Black before he provoked his father any further.

Lucius was keenly awaiting the final fireworks, but he didn't think Orion's youngest daughter should be present when they went off. He frowned grimly, _especially_ as he had told her only the day before things would get better. Lucius couldn't excuse himself, couldn't explain why he had offered those few words of comfort when he had every intention of crushing her family. _And her along with it?_ A niggling little voice asked.

_Yes_, came his instant reply. She was still a Black, still tainted by association. Lucius assumed that Narcissa had known this truth from the second she had seen the tapestry. If only she didn't look so terribly young and in need of protection! Lucius's frown took on a puzzled air; either he hadn't been paying attention the day before, or Miss Narcissa Black suddenly didn't look quite so young.

"Well, shall we all sit down?" Orion indicated to the chairs.

Mr Black was more flustered than Lucius had expected. The young man sat next to his father and accepted a flute of wine that Orion had managed to keep mostly in its glass.

"You want your daughter to witness this, Black?" Julius asked incredulously as he regarded Narcissa, who had also obediently taken a seat. Narcissa, it seemed, had taken to studying her lap with the utmost intensity.

"Yes, I think she should be here to hear my proposal, and," Orion continued with difficulty, "your answer."

"I'm not sure I want to ask why that might be," Julius said slowly. He glanced at his son, but Lucius's expression was typically impenetrable.

"The events of yesterday were... unfortunate, but they needn't be the end of things-"

"Oh they most certainly are _not_ the end of things," Julius snarled.

"Quite," Orion cleared his throat nervously. "But the circumstances which made a union between our two families still exist."

Julius snorted, but Mr. Black didn't back down. He seemed to have discovered some untapped reserve of courage, and continued forward dauntlessly, "You might have all the money in the world, but it can't buy respectability. The rumours in _The Prophet_..."

"-would have died down completely if not for your little whore of a-" 

"Father!" Lucius interjected sharply, casting a significant look at Narcissa to remind his father of her presence.

Julius merely wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Orion wants her to hear it, then let her hear it. If that's the worst thing that people are saying when I'm though, then-"

"Hear me out!" Orion wasn't able to rob his voice completely of its desperation, but he held his body very stiff, doggedly meeting the elder Malfoy's eyes. "This can all be fixed. The marriage can still take place." "Oh? What do you propose to do?" Julius jeered in response. "Drag the girl back and get an annulment? I wouldn't let my boy touch her after-" 

"Not, Andromeda- _Narcissa_."

There was a beat of absolute stillness. Lucius felt a jolt of shock. Then, automatically, his eyes cast toward the girl. _She must have known._ He realized at last. That accounted for her silence- for the expression on her face, like a prisoner awaiting a sentence to be read.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Malfoy senior spat, and Narcissa winced again. Lucius was studying her closely, vaguely impressed with the way she managed to hold her composure as the older men battled on. 

"Listen to the rest of what I have to say," Orion continued quickly, as if conscious that he was losing his audience. "Narcissa is just as capable of giving you what you need. She's just as pure."

"She's a baby," Julius sniffed, not fooled by the way the low-cut gown hung off Narcissa's girlish body, or the clever makeup that Bellatrix had applied. "She's what, fourteen...?" "Fifteen," Orion corrected. "She'll be sixteen on the ninth of October." "Still a child." "But not forever." 

Lucius was almost impressed by Orion's persistence. Nevertheless, he was only half-listening as he studied the girl in question. He was more impressed than his father by the efforts at illusion. True, they could not completely conceal Narcissa's age, but they did effectively display the promise of what was to come. She had a different colouring than her sister- honey blonde where Andromeda was brunette, and golden-skinned where her sister had been peachy, but her eyes were sensational, and the cut of the dress hinted at her budding curves.

_Well, why not?_ Lucius was surprised when the question presented itself in his mind, but he could not dismiss it out of hand. It was true what Orion said. Narcissa was just as capable of producing a pure-blooded heir as her sister. It wasn't as if he'd developed any sentimental preference for Andromeda- at least, not that he'd admit to, especially now. They were interchangeable for his purposes.

"What? We're supposed to accept her as some sort of consolation prize?" Julius continued, cruelly ignoring the fact that the "consolation prize" was sitting only a few feet away. "I can only imagine what the _Prophet_ will have to say about that!"

"The _Prophet_ won't have the first idea that Lucius hadn't chosen Narcissa all along."

"Oh?" Julius scoffed in the other man's face, "That will be a neat trick- considering they've already published a notice of the broken engagement!"

"They know that it was broken, and that my dau-that Andromeda left...but not why," Orion continued patiently.

"Because she fancies whoring herself to Mudbloods apparently," the  
elder Malfoy snarled in his ugliest tone. "I'm sure that's what people assume," Mr. Black agreed, though the effort to maintain his own temper was beginning to show. He was tugging at the collar of his robes, and a vein in his temple was throbbing. "Until we tell them otherwise." 

Mr. Malfoy rolled his eyes skyward and he spoke in a sarcastic tone, "By all means, enlighten me, Black. What plausible explanation have you concocted to explain all this away?"

"That Lucius and Narcissa are in love." Orion waited for the shock to show on the other man's face before continuing, "Andromeda found out that we were going to switch the engagement and ran away with this...other fellow...to save face and get revenge." There was a moment of absolute silence. Lucius's gaze flicked automatically toward Narcissa. She was still sitting motionless in her chair, twisting her hands in the folds of her dress as if the men currently yelling back and forth weren't deciding the rest of her life. She was probably frightened. Lucius sighed, failing to understand the urge to protect her that welled up again. She had to be frightened, but was unwilling or unable to speak...or perhaps she was merely wise? It struck Lucius, at last, that while she might be able to avoid a marriage to him, she would probably simply be shuffled into a marriage with someone else- probably someone far less desirable than himself. He knew, too well the desperation of the Black's financial straits. If the Malfoys demanded repayment of the "small" advances they'd been extending to Orion since the engagement was announced, they'd be flattened. If they wanted any hope of salvaging their reputation- of even remaining in the country, they'd have to sell their girls to the highest bidder. _Wasn't that what they were doing now?_ Lucius couldn't articulate how it was different, but it was. He was respectable and- in spite of what the _Prophet_ might imply- a Pureblood and a wizard of taste. There was no explanation for his sudden need to protect Narcissa from the fate his imagination had conjured on his own, but the thoughts had barely begun to form before he heard his own voice speaking: 

"That might actually work."

Julius was astounded. "Have you lost your mind, boy?" he hissed. "You can't tell me you're actually considering this idea!" 

Lucius scowled back at his father. The chastising tone had the opposite effect intended- it made the younger Malfoy all the more determined to assert himself. "I don't see why not. We've invested a lot of money in the Blacks." He forgave himself this one, small dig. "And I suppose the story is preferable to being jilted for a half-blood." From the corner of his eye, he saw Narcissa look up, her bright eyes curious and wary.

Orion's posture softened in relief. "There now. See. These things can be worked through. By the time she's ready to be married-" "By the time she's ready?" Julius interjected bitingly. "By the time she's ready she'll probably have found another Mudblood's bed to warm." "Father!" Lucius snapped again. He couldn't begrudge the older man's temper, but now he was speaking of the woman who might just become his wife. "There's hardly any call for-" Julius spoke over him. "Tell me why it is that you're so keen to wait, Black?" he demanded, "So that you can enjoy handouts for another three years? We're supposed to simply trust you again after what happened?" "Narcissa would never-" 

"That's what you said about the other one too!"

Orion rubbed his temple. "I don't know what it is you want me to do. You said yourself. She's fifteen years old."

"I don't see why that matters. All she has to do is lay on her back, something _your_ daughters have demonstrated a talent for!" Narcissa gasped a little in alarm, and Lucius and Orion's tempers snapped at the same instant. "Now, _see here_ Malfoy!" Mr. Black finally exploded, starting to come around the desk. Lucius was also out of his chair. "That will be quite enough, father," he hissed, and locked gazes with his father. Julius was the first to draw away. Smiling smugly, Lucius turned to Mr. Black. "He does have a point. Past experience counsels against a long engagement." _To put it mildly_, he thought bitterly, but forced his voice to remain even as he continued, "Although you are also correct in that your daughter is hardly of an age to be married." "Then, it appears that we are at an impasse," Orion said, still glaring over Lucius's shoulder at the other man. 

"Not necessarily," Lucius said coolly. He thought he could feel Narcissa's eyes staring into his back. He had to shake the sensation away before he could continue. "While it's certainly not _desirable_ for Narcissa to marry now, it's possible- and legal with your permission. We could marry immediately to satisfy the formalities and then..." he paused, determined to phrase things more delicately than his father had, "_begin our cohabitation_ at a later date."

Orion considered this. While he was in dire straits, he was obviously resisting surrendering his daughter so soon. "How do I know you'll honour that arrangement?" he asked after a few moments of mulling the proposal.

"You have my word," Lucius said with a smirk. "The same thing you gave _us_ that Andromeda would agree to marry...though, happily, _mine_ hasn't been called into question." Mr. Black's expression darkened, but he was finally forced to nod his head, "If it's the only way." "It is," Lucius assured him. Even Julius looked half convinced. "At least it will give credence to your story- if word leaks out, we can claim that Narcissa and Lucius eloped, but we're making them stay apart until they're out of school." Lucius nodded his head. "It's settled then." "I suppose so." Orion finally seemed to remember his daughter, still sitting silently in her chair. "Well, petal. Did you hear that? What do you say? Will you marry Mr. Malfoy?" 

Once again the extraordinary blue eyes fluttered up. They alighted on Lucius for the merest second, and then she faced her father to give him the only answer she could....

"Yes." Lucius thought Orion might faint from the relief, and while he supposed Narcissa could hardly be happy about the situation, did she _really_ have to look as if the affirmation had left _quite_ such a bad taste in her mouth? He peered at her closely, and then realised that she seemed to be biting her bottom lip to try to keep it from trembling. He had to get her out of the claustrophobic room, he realised suddenly, away from their boorish parents and the whole charged atmosphere. 

Lucius couldn't say where this impulse came from, perhaps partly from his own desire to escape, but he found himself standing and saying: "Miss Narcissa, you look as though you could use some fresh air. I know I could, do you think you might indulge me in a turn around the grounds?"

She lifted her head, not quite high enough to meet his eyes – she seemed to be keeping them trained on his left shoulder – and opened her mouth to form a reply, except Julius interrupted.

"Lucius we still have a lot to discuss you can't-"

"I'm sure you and Mr Black can handle things, father," Lucius drawled calmly, reaching down and tugging Narcissa out of her chair. "We won't be gone long," he added, steering the youngest Black towards the door. She shot a passing, pleading glance at her father, but Orion Black just gave what was probably meant to be an encouraging nod and a sad smile.

Once out in the corridor Lucius took a deep breath and sighed heavily, allowing Narcissa to step out of his grasp. She finally looked up at his face.

"I thought you'd say no," she blurted.

"You didn't," Lucius pointed out blandly. "Which way to the gardens?"

Narcissa indicated to one of the corridors in disbelief, and then followed in his wake as he began to walk down the passage. "It was hardly _my_ choice to make, Mr Malfoy."

Lucius stopped walking, Narcissa nearly careened into him. When he turned, it was so sudden that Narcissa was almost knocked off balance. "I will _not_ be made a fool of again," he hissed threateningly, looming over her, dark and dangerous. "If you intend to break this engagement-"

"I don't!" Narcissa squeaked, half-terrified to have uncovered a chink in his icy armour, half-insulted that he thought she would break her word! _Andromeda did_, a voice whispered, _can you blame him for doubting you; the two of you were cut from the same cloth_? "I _won't_," she swore firmly, staring back at him resolutely.

Lucius nodded his fair head and took a disarming backwards step. He couldn't say why he believed her, but he did. There was something so earnest in her clear blue eyes when she looked up at him, he simply couldn't help himself.

"Good," he breathed, letting the ominous moment pass. He doubted that he was setting her at ease very successfully, but some things needed to be made clear. "So, the gardens?" Lucius offered her his arm. Narcissa hesitated, but only for a moment.

When they turned the next corner, arms linked, but a heavy, awkward silent between them, they happened upon Mrs Black.

"Mama."

Through the thin fabric of her robes, Lucius thought he felt Narcissa stiffen, but the impulse was gone in a moment and she released his arm, rushing forward toward her mother. Cassandra Black looked nothing like the handsome, light-hearted woman who had presided over the house as hostess only a mere day before. The light had gone out of her eyes, leaving them flat and lifeless, and her fair skin was sickly pale. She looked as if she hadn't slept that night at all- and he supposed he couldn't blame her. Even if the responsibility of Andromeda's defection should be squarely laid at the Blacks' own feet, it wasn't as if any of them had wanted it to happen. They had all drunk from the same bitter cup of ruin. 

"You're wearing Andromeda's dress," Mrs. Black said, whispering her daughter's name in an awful, pained rasp.

Narcissa shifted under her mother's scrutiny. "Daddy wanted me to do it."

"Why?" She bit her lip again. Lucius didn't know whether to be charmed or annoyed by the habit. He would have to break her of it when she became his wife. 

"H-he wanted me to look nice for when the Malfoy's came," she admitted reluctantly.

Lucius watched his future mother-in-law's face, first drawing in puzzlement, and then flushing as comprehension dawned.

"No," she breathed out in a desperate rattling whisper. She reached for her youngest daughter's shoulder's, clawing through the thin fabric of her dress.

Lucius stood stiffly, watching in disgust as the woman's expression crumpled. His derision turned to admiration, however, when he saw Narcissa's reaction.

She steadfastly resisted the urge to fall into her mother's open arms. She took a step back, returning to Lucius's side, and laid her hand lightly over his elbow.

"Mr. Malfoy has agreed to marry me, mother," she announced in a carefully neutral tone. "Isn't that wonderful news?" 

It was not wonderful news. Lucius saw the answer flashing in the other woman's eyes, but she bit her tongue, probably tasting blood as she looked imploringly at her youngest daughter. "What has your father put you up to?" she asked. "Narcissa, what have you done?"

"Saved us," Narcissa hissed back, and then she returned her attentions to Lucius, curling her fingers around his arm and tugging him toward the door. "Mr. Malfoy wanted to see the gardens. If you would excuse us?" Nodding dumbly, Mrs. Black stepped aside, and allowed the young couple to pass. "Well, that was certainly a warm reception," Lucius growled as soon as they'd left the house. Narcissa lifted her chin, giving him a look that was almost comically haughty coming from such a tiny slip of a little girl. "You can hardly blame her under the circumstances, can you?" "I can and I do," Lucius snapped back, but without any venom. He was more amused than annoyed by her reproach. Narcissa sighed heavily and Lucius was struck by the heavy weight that seemed to hang around her shoulders. Considerable effort had gone in to making her appear as a budding young woman- but it was her eyes that went the furthest in making her seem older than she was. He supposed it was only natural. He'd had his entire life to grow accustomed to the idea of an arranged marriage. She had only been given a few hours- and besides, he had remarked before that girls were far more sentimental about such things. Lucius thought it was best to alleviate a few of her worries while he had a chance, and to tell her what would be expected. "There isn't any reason to be afraid." "Afraid?" She frowned, giving him the impression that she was vaguely insulted by this remark. _Good.  
_

Lucius knew that he wouldn't have the patience to deal with a pathetic cowering little creature of a wife for the rest of his life. Although love and romance were not criteria that he set any store by, he did at least want a partner whom he could respect. He thought he could respect Narcissa Black - he had seen nothing to worry him on that score, and apart from the fundamental flaw of her being Andromeda's sister he was yet to spot a failing that could not be amended. Perhaps even her age would turn out to be advantageous? Surely it would give him the opportunity to mould her into precisely the kind of wife he desired?

"You won't have to take on any of the responsibilities that come with being the next Mrs Malfoy for quite some time. In fact, it will be years before you have to take on that role fully," Lucius assured her lightly as they skirted a pretty little ornamental pond. "Your life will not change so dramatically."

Narcissa stared silently up at him, and Lucius got the impression that instead of being reassuring he was simply patronising the poor girl. Of _course_, her life was going to change, _had_ already changed, probably beyond her recognition. She might be able to go back to school, she might not have to worry about running his house or warming his bed just yet, but she was not the same person who had woken up that morning, and to suggest otherwise was probably highly insulting.

"That's not quite what I mean," Lucius corrected himself slowly, irritated, he stopped and frowned down at the water. He was aware of Narcissa staring at him curiously.

"No? What do you mean, Mr Malfoy?" she asked.

"Lucius," he murmured distractedly, still trying to work out precisely what it was that he did mean.

"Lucius?" Narcissa repeated warily. He glanced at her.

"My name," he supplied helpfully, as if she wasn't already fully aware of the fact. "I think we can dispense with some formalities."

"You do?" Narcissa asked hesitantly, a little frown marring her face, which provoked Lucius's eyes to narrow.

He was only asking her to use his given name for Circe's sake! She needn't look as if he had made some disgustingly depraved suggestion and tried to take advantage of her!

"You don't apparently, so we will continue with 'Mr Malfoy' I suppose," Lucius drawled coolly.

"Oh," Narcissa murmured as the offer was retracted. "Just as you like." It might have been rather nice to call him Lucius. It might have made him less of a stranger. She had simply been unnerved by the thought of what other formalities he might want to dispense with and had overreacted.

"I don't want you to be frightened of me," Lucius breathed, trying to start over again. He shifted so that they were standing opposite each other.

Narcissa opened her mouth to tell him that she wasn't in the least frightened, even if it was a lie, but Lucius carried on:

"I want- I would like to be your friend, Miss Narcissa," he said slowly, gazing down at her with a quiet intensity.

And, as Narcissa looked back, into pools of liquid mercury, she realised that she would like that too. Very much.

Lucius watched her face intently as he waited for her response. She didn't answer immediately. Was she always so cautious? He didn't know if that would be a good thing or a bad thing. However, he was nearly at the end of his patience when it happened: there was a small, hesitant twitch at the edges of her mouth. Then, like the sun bursting from behind a cloud, it erupted into a full-fledged smile.

Her face was completely transformed. She had always struck him as pretty in a coltish sort of way, but smiling at him, her melancholy lifted for a moment, she was dazzling- and he had a suspicion that she would only improve. Of course, there were more important considerations than physical beauty, he reminded himself sternly. Perhaps it would have been better not to have such a lovely wife?

After all, beauty could mask heavy flaws that he would rather know before they were married- but he assumed that it was too late to worry about that. She _would_ be exquisite, and she _would_ be his wife, and he could think of far more unpleasant burdens to bear. Feeling a little like smiling himself, he took her arm again and continued down the path. "This leads to the stables." Narcissa informed him. "The stables? Do you ride?" "I used to." She answered, a little wistfully. "Used to?" "Yes...when I was little. Papa had Abraxians. But...well..." She shrugged. It was the same sort of shrug that Andromeda had used to excuse the fraying sofa and worn-out rugs. He was still undecided about lip-biting, but the apologetic shrug would have to go. _Immediately_. 

"We have stables at Malfoy Manor." He informed her, enjoying the spark of interest in her eyes. He realized, if she kept smiling like that, he would be all too tempted to spoil her completely. Remembering himself, he stiffened. "Well, Miss Narcissa. Perhaps we should return to the house?"

  
..ooOOoo..

Narcissa avoided her mother and sister for the rest of the afternoon, choosing instead to wander the grounds and concentrate on unravelling her own thoughts. So much had happened in the last 48 hours, she barely knew where to begin: her grief for losing her sister, her shame for what Andromeda had done, her terror at taking her sister's place, or the unexpected but reassuring friendship that Mr. Malfoy had extended.

It seemed like a dream, or possibly a nightmare, from which she was sure to wake... except of course it wasn't, and she wouldn't. The rest of her life had just been decided. Just like that... done, finished, final. 

Narcissa wondered if Andromenda had posessed any idea of what would happen when she left, if she'd had the smallest inkling of what might become of her baby sister. She hoped not. She hoped Andromeda had not been _that_ selfish. She remembered the letter, and how foolish and blinded by love her sister had seemed, full of ludicrous hopes of reconciliation- as if their father would ever allow her to set foot inside Ravensden again!

"Oh, Andy! How could you?" Narcissa whispered aloud, a tear rolling down her cheek. She sank down onto the seat of a swing that had been hung from one of the lower branches of an old oak when the Black sisters were all young children. "How could you?"

"Talking to yourself, Cissa? That's the first sign of madness you know," called Bellatrix's voice jovially, but the light-hearted edge was decidedly forced. Narcissa twisted around to watch as she appeared from the little copse of trees that the huge oak stood a little apart from.

"What's the second?" she sniffed, once her sister was closer, kicking at the ground, gently swinging herself to and fro as she stared at Bellatrix with teary eyes.

"Answering. And as I am yet to hear you have a fully fledged conversation with yourself, I'd say you were mostly sane." Bellatrix flashed a brittle smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I've been looking for you all afternoon you know," she muttered, dropping the cheerful façade.

"Oh, why?"

"Cissa!" Bellatrix snapped. "You might be a blonde, but don't play dumb. _Why_ did you tell Daddy and Mr Malfoy that you'd marry Lucius?" she demanded. "Mama is beside herself you know."

"I'm sorry about that," Narcissa sighed, wiping her eyes, "but she'll see that it's for the best in the end. It is, isn't it, Bella?" she whispered uncertainly. "I did the right thing?"

Bellatrix pursed her lips and placed her hands on her hips. "I don't know, Cissa, I just don't know. My head's saying yes, that we didn't have any other choice, but it just seems so hard that it falls solely to you to make things right again," she paused and frowned. "We're all depending on you now Cissa, the whole family, and well, you're the baby," she shrugged her shoulders and lent back against the tree trunk. "It doesn't seem fair I suppose."

"Life isn't," Narcissa offered sagely, Bellatrix simply snorted.

"Well, you could be stuck with a worse husband I suppose," she offered grudgingly.

"Yes, Mr Malfoy seems very..." Narcissa flailed for an adjective that suited. "Nice," she mumbled inadequately.

Bellatrix choked on a laugh of disbelief. Narcissa fought down the childish urge to poke her tongue out, but her sister _was_ making her feel a little better, even if she didn't know it, simply by being normal and outspoken and... _Bella_.

"Well, that's not how I'd describe him. The words 'nice' and 'Malfoy' do not belong in the same sentence, but each to their own."

"How would you describe him?" Narcissa asked, suddenly keen to have the opinion of another girl.

"He's..." Bella made show of taking an uncharacteristically long time to choose her words, "...rich," she said after a long pause, and then grinned mischievously.

Narcissa rolled her eyes. "I _know_ that," she groaned, but still managed a smile. "You went to school with him, didn't you?" "And?" Bella played coy. "And- you must have spent time around him. What is he like? Was he on the duelling team? Did he play quidditch?" Narcissa had spent the better part of the morning trying to remember the answers on her own, but in the time that they had been together at Hogwarts, Malfoy had failed to make a significant impression. Bellatrix sank down onto the grass beside her sister. "No, he wasn't on any teams- I don't think he's the type to play games unless he knows already that he's going to win." _No, he wouldn't be,_ Narcissa thought as she added the information to the regrettably short list of things that she knew about her husband to be. "He's very clever. He was Head Boy in his year and had N.E.W.T.s in nearly everything." That also fit with the composite Narcissa was building. "Who were his friends?" she asked. "Oh...everyone, I suppose. I don't know if he had anyone that he was especially close to. Well, he tried to spend time with Andromeda," Bellatrix stopped talking for a moment. She picked up a twig and used it to poke at the ground. "But...well...I guess its clear that they weren't very close." Narcissa nodded, her heart twisting at the mention of her sister, even as she felt an odd prickle of an emotion she couldn't name. "So I guess Andy was the only one?" "One what?" Bellatrix asked. "His only girlfriend." This earned another snort. "Oh, Cissa. If you must do this, please save yourself the heartbreak and nip any romantic delusions in the bud. Malfoy...well...Lucius had girlfriends the same way he had regular friends- everyone wanted him, but he was never attached to anyone in particular." Narcissa was torn between the desire to assert that she had absolutely no 'romantic delusions' as her sister put it- and the irresistible urge to ask the next obvious question, "So...he had a lot of them then?" "Yes," Bellatrix said bluntly. "But look on the bright side- he's an excellent kisser!" "Bella!" Narcissa gasped, surely Mr. Malfoy hadn't worked his way through the _entire_ set of Black sisters! The older Black enjoyed her little sister's horrified look for a moment, and then set the record straight. "Not that I have any personal experience, of course," she said quickly. "That's just his reputation." Turning more serious, she looked up at where Narcissa was sitting in the swing. "Honestly, Cissa. I don't think you have anything to worry about. He'd never dally with another woman of our  
class, and he'll never be attached to one of the rabble- so you really oughtn't worry. Besides, it's not as if its going to be a _real_ marriage," she said pointedly. 

Narcissa nodded. She would do well to keep that always firmly and fully in her mind. Harbouring hopes for something more was Andromeda's mistake. Narcissa should not repeat it.

"Of course not," she said quickly. Bellatrix gave her a shrewd look and opened her mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by a loud CRACK! Both girls flinched automatically, and then scowled at the house-elf that appeared in their midst. "Mistress Narcissa," the creature warbled in a pathetic, snivelling tone, "Master Black is asking for Miss in his study." Narcissa nodded her head and stood. She had expected a summons. "I'll be right in," she informed it. Linking arms with her sister, both girls returned to the house. After the noisy visit from Julius Malfoy that morning, the house seemed almost surreally quiet as Narcissa parted company with her sister at the staircase and continued down the hall back to her father's study. She knocked lightly on the door and stepped inside. "Ah, there you are," Orion said, rising automatically from his chair. He walked across the room to where his daughter was standing, and tousled her hair affectionately before directing her to a seat. "I was proud of you today, petal," he said. She noticed that his face still looked weary, but less worried than before. At least she knew she had done some good. "That was a very brave and selfless thing that you agreed to do." 

"Yes, daddy," she answered, but rather wished that everyone would quit reminding her of just how enormous a sacrifice she had made. The Slytherin in her was getting nervous.

"I thought you'd like to know what the arrangements will be." She nodded, and so her father continued. "You understood that the Malfoy's aren't willing to wait. I'd try to dissuade them if I thought that it would make a difference, but..." he let his voice trail off significantly, and then clapped his hands. "At least they've agreed to be reasonable. We'll have the wedding next weekend- just the families- and you'll stay here until the start of term. There shouldn't be any real change until you finish school," he said brightly, trying to sound as if he believed it, but Narcissa suspected that he could guess the thoughts rolling through her head: that everything was different already. "Your mother thinks the two of you should spent a few weeks at Malfoy Manor next summer, getting used to the house, but otherwise you shouldn't notice any changes." Mr. Black was looking at her so earnestly that Narcissa felt compelled to force a smile, "Of course not, Daddy. It sounds very agreeable." "Good." He bent over her again and kissed her cheek. "I think that this is yours now." Narcissa's brows knit in confusion when he pressed something cold and hard into her palm. She opened her hand to look. It was Andromeda's engagement ring. A heavy band of gold set with an impressive diamond, simple and solid and... and very suited to Andromeda. 

Narcissa stared down at it blankly; it was her _sister's_ ring. A reminder of everything that should have been, of everything that had gone so wrong, how could she be expected to wear Andromeda's engagement ring? It would betray the lie- if only to herself. How could she try and rebuild a life, a life she could be content with, if it was founded on something already tainted with such sorrow?

"Well, aren't you going to try it on?" Orion prompted gently. Narcissa gave a weak nod, and under her father's expectant gaze, slid the precious band onto her finger obediently.

"It's too big," she mumbled, feeling the ring weigh down her entire hand, her entire body.

"Well, we can have it resized so that it fits you, petal. Don't worry."

Narcissa nodded once again in agreement, even as she knew the ring would never fit.

..ooOOoo..

TO BE CONTINUED


	4. Preparations

**Chapter Four**

**Preparations**

One week wouldn't be nearly long enough.

Narcissa lay in her bed later that night, staring up at the ceiling; sleep seemed a terribly futile endeavour. Her mother crept into her room an hour or so after Lucius left, but Narcissa hadn't felt up to talking, so she had feigned slumber until her mother left again.

Now she was staring through the darkness tracing the shadows above her with her eyes, making faces out of the strange shapes, and trying to decide what she felt. The night before she had cried herself to sleep, certain that her family was ruined, certain that they were going to lose everything. It was only one day later, and things could not have looked more different. The Blacks were not ruined, not completely, things could be patched up and mended, although perhaps they would never completely heal? Narcissa licked her lips and refused to dwell on what she personally was losing.

Perhaps it was best not to think about it? To pretend it really wasn't happening? Lucius and her father had been in so eager to assure her that nothing was going to change... maybe she could will herself into believing the lie?

Narcissa yawned and snuggled down into her pillows. Yes, denial, that was the key. She could pretend that tomorrow was just another day, the same as any that had come in the weeks before. Willing herself to believe the lie, she found slumber at last.

The blissful oblivion was not to last. Narcissa was woken at the crack of dawn by the curtains being jerked apart. She muttered something garbled into her mattress and pulled the covers up over her head, only to squeal unhappily when they were thrown off completely.

"Come on, get up you lazy Skrewt." It was Bellatrix's voice, sounding far too wide awake for – Narcissa strained to open one eye, but couldn't quite make out the numbers on the clock beside her bed.

"I'm asleep," she mumbled, groping around for her quilt. "Go 'way."

"Get _up_, Cissa." Bellatrix prodded her roughly. "We've tons to do today! Mama's already ready downstairs, she's waiting to take us into London. Well, you really I suppose," Bellatrix almost pouted. "But I'm sure to get a new dress too."

"I'm happy for you, go 'way," Narcissa begged, hiding her head under her pillow.

"Oh, aren't you even a little tiny bit excited about choosing your wedding dress? You only get one you know."

Narcissa bolted up, feeling as if she had just been dowsed by a bucket of icy water. "My wedding dress?" she whispered, paling.

"Yes, you didn't think you were going to wear Andromeda's ugly old rag, did you?" Bellatrix sniffed contemptuously.  
  
Actually, Narcissa had rather thought she would. Mr. Black had insisted, as a point of pride, on paying for his eldest daughter's gown. It had been ordered from a very exclusive couturier in Paris and had not come cheaply.  
  
Bellatrix seemed to be able to read her sister's thoughts.  
  
"You're rich now, remember? The Malfoys sent over loads of money- well, at least I think they must have- and told daddy you can use their accounts for whatever else you need. You're getting the dress, and new furniture, and all new things for school."  
  
Narcissa sat up in her bed and blinked, wondering if she was still asleep. "New furniture?" she asked, still-bleary eyed.  
  
"Yes. Apparently the Malfoys don't think we're up to scratch," Bella informed her. "Daddy was ranting about it this morning, but he took the money all the same...now, GET UP!"  
  
Narcissa finally allowed herself to be prodded out of bed and called an elf to draw a bath and arrange her clothes. Once again, her father sent instructions regarding her attire. She was tucked into one of Andromeda's leftover gowns, had her hair pinned on top of her head, and was splashed with rogue before she was pronounced acceptable.  
  
Her mother and sister were waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Narcissa shrank a little under Mrs. Black's hollow, disapproving gaze. "Well, Narcissa. You look lovely," she said tightly. She lifted her voice a bit, adding emphasis as she added bitterly, "No one would guess you're only fifteen years old."  
  
Narcissa's father must have been nearby, because she heard a sigh and a slamming door, but she didn't see him. Bowing her head a little, she accepted a hug and light kiss from her mother, and then fell into step behind her impatient sister as they headed for the floo.  
  
She knew they would go to Diagon Alley. There were some boutiques there that her mother patronized from time to time, but the fireplace they emerged in was unfamiliar to Narcissa, as was the wizard who rushed forward.  
  
"Ah, zis ees zee pe-teet?" he said in a French accent so thick that Narcissa suspected it was fake. He was talking to Bellatrix.  
  
"No," Mrs. Black said coldly, and gestured to her second daughter: "My youngest, Narcissa."  
  
Narcissa barely had time to catch her breath before the strange wizard was tugging on her hands and leading her into the hushed, silk-swathed recesses of what she could tell was an exclusive salon.  
  
"Madame must see you," he said, slipping out of his accent. "She is-_ees _ver-ee bus-ee, but-"  
  
"This is the girl?" Narcissa's eyes widened as a large witch emerged from a curtained portal on the wall. She looked like the _last _person Narcissa would expect to be a designer. Clad in simple, severe black robes and buckled shoes, the woman had a sharp, unpleasant face and a down turned mouth.  
  
The wizard leading Narcissa nodded his head. Soon, the youngest Miss Black felt appraising eyes wandering over her figure. "Skinny little thing, aren't you?" the designer witch mumbled disapprovingly, "and what about your chest? You're having an engorgement charm set, surely?"  
  
Instinctively, Narcissa crossed her arms over her breasts, "I-!"  
  
"She most assuredly is NOT!" Narcissa was grateful to hear her mother's voice behind her, sounding scandalized.  
  
"Pity," the witch said, sounding annoyed. "Well, I'll have to enchant the bodice," she shrugged. "Stand on that stool." She gestured Narcissa toward a raised bench in the centre of the room.  
  
Narcissa did as she was told, and then gasped as a glittering bolt of magic stripped away her clothes so that she was left standing in her underwear.  
  
"I assume you'll be going for a trousseau after this?" the witch said archly, smirking at the girlish ruffled knickers and chemise.  
  
Narcissa's cheeks began to burn.  
  
"Just concentrate on the dress," Mrs. Black snapped.  
  
"_Mother_..." Bellatrix whined in warning. That was interesting. Bellatrix was usually the last person to suffer arrogance. The designer must have been more exclusive than Narcissa first expected.  
  
"Let's try satin," the large witch said, zapping Narcissa again. The girl gasped as a simple, tight-skirted column dress formed around her body.  
  
"Hrm...too plain," the designer sighed. She flicked her wand again. The skirt filled out, and was covered with little ruffles.

"Too busy."

Another flick.

"Too full."

Narcissa was surrounded by mirrors, and she watched the gowns scroll past far too quickly to register her own opinions. She quite liked some of the gowns that the witch was trying, but she couldn't get a word in edgewise. Her mother was having the same problem.

"A bit low-cut in the front!" Mrs. Black offered once, but Madame ignored her, scrolling through design after design on her own.

"Maybe organdie?" she said in a bored tone.

The air around Narcissa shimmered again. Then, everyone gasped.  
  
Narcissa knew, the second that she looked into the silvery glass at her reflection, that it was the perfect dress. She was reminded of the day when she bought her first wand at Ollivander's. From the moment it touched her skin, _she knew_. The tight bodice of the dress gave the illusion of curves that had not quite formed, and the full, gauzy skirt reminded her of something that a fairy princess in a story book would wear.  
  
"Well," Madame said, clapping her hands in agreement. "I believe that will do."  
  
Everyone else seemed to be in agreement as well. It was perfect.  
  
Narcissa ventured a small smile at herself in the mirror. Then she noticed the price tag dangling out of the top of the bodice. She looked at it and gasped.  
  
Madame and the wizard exchanged a look, but Mrs. Black hurried forward. "It doesn't matter what it costs," she said in a tone that implied, at last, that she had found something in the arrangement to take pleasure in. "We'll take it. Bill the Malfoys."  
  
The wizard nodded eagerly. "Of course."  
  
There were still fittings to take care of. The wizard handled it, while Madame sorted out a bridesmaid gown for Bella. Narcissa wanted pale pink, but her sister refused. She didn't know quite how she felt about "forest green and crimson" for wedding colours- it sounded suspiciously like what Bellatrix had wanted for her own wedding before being overruled- but she hadn't made a habit that week of refusing extraordinary requests, and she saw no need to start at that moment.  
  
It was less than an hour later when Narcissa and her family emerged from the posh boutique, each clutching exquisite new gowns for the wedding and in much better spirits than when they had set off. "Well girls," Mrs. Black said, turning them down one of the side streets that was a shortcut back to the main thoroughfare of Diagon Alley, "Would you like some ice cream or lunch before we finish shopping for Narcissa's things?"  
  
Narcissa was about to nod her head in agreement, when a flashbulb exploded near her head. She barely had time to blink before another went off, and then another.  
  
"Miss Black!" a voice shouted near her head, "When did you first start  
dating Mr. Malfoy?"

"Is it true that you met him while visiting your sister at school?" came another from her left.  
  
"Are you really pregnant?"  
  
Narcissa felt as if something icy was being poured down her back. What was going on? It was impossible to even think in the confusion of voices and light. She was grateful when fingers curled around the collar of her dress and hauled her back into the boutique.  
  
It was the wizard who had greeted them before. "NO COMMENT!" he said, then dragged the three dazed women back inside. Regaining her bearings, Narcissa saw that (accent abandoned) he was shutting the door on a throng of reporters.  
  
"My goodness!" Mrs. Black said, eyes wide, "What in the world was that all about?"  
  
..ooOOoo..  
  
It didn't take long for them to get an answer. Abandoning their plans for shopping, the trio returned to Ravensden Hall to find the evening edition of the Prophet bearing their own photograph, and the headline: 

"**SISTER SWAP!"**

Beneath, in smaller but equally garish letters read:

"**_Truth of broken engagement surfaces, Malfoy to wed little sister_**."  
  
"Well, I guess they got tired of reporting about Lord Voldemort," Bellatrix said dryly.  
  
"Bella!" her mother hissed in annoyance. She snatched the paper out of her daughter's hands and read, her face growing paler and paler. "I have to take this to your father," she said.  
  
Bellatrix scowled, "Wait here," she told her sister. She lifted her wand, and with a loud **_CRACK!_** she disappeared.  
  
Narcissa sat on the steps brooding and trying to figure out what was going on, but it wasn't long before her older sister reappeared, bearing a fresh copy of the _Prophet_. Bellatrix sat down beside her sister and gestured to the caption beneath their picture:

**"Narcissa Black (centre) shown leaving Siren Couture. Is the newest  
Malfoy on the way?"**  
  
"Listen," Bellatrix said, beginning to read, "Two days ago this paper reported the broken engagement of Andromeda Black (Tonks) and millionaire playboy..." Narcissa scrunched her nose at the term, "...Lucius Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy Industries Floo Powder fortune. Recently, however, the Prophet has discovered startling new information..."

"Discovered how?" Narcissa interrupted, but Bellatrix shushed her and continued to read aloud.

"...it seems Mr Malfoy, far from being the party left standing at the altar as was formerly supposed, was in fact the one to call off the imminent wedding between himself and the former Miss Black. The reaction of the now Mrs Tonks to this news we can, of course, only speculate, but her subsequent actions appear to speak volumes.

"Jilted by her long-standing fiancé in favour of her own _baby_ sister Mrs Tonks set herself down a route of self-destruction, throwing herself at the first (Muggle-born!) man who would take her, and ensuring her permanent estrangement from her own, renowned, family.

"But the drama continues! In less than a week Mr Malfoy and Miss Narcissa Black are set to wed – and what could have prompted such haste, apart from the expectant patter of little feet? -"

"What?" Narcissa gasped, cutting Bellatrix off once again. Her sister stopped reading, but frowned down at the paper.

"Well, I assumed that's what people would think," the older girl said with a shrug, "but I didn't imagine the _Prophet_ would actually go ahead publish it. Different reporter," she pointed to the name at the top of the article - a _Ms C Thatcher_. "Less fond of Muggles than the last one but no more subtle. Oh well, reporters are all scum, we needn't-" she ground to a halt at the stricken look on her sister's face. "Cissa?"

"Everyone will have read that! Everyone will think I'm- that I'm a-" Narcissa couldn't bring herself to say the words, but she could feel tears stinging her eyes.

"Who cares what everyone thinks? They'll all be proven wrong in nine months anyway," Bellatrix offered dismissively. Narcissa scowled. Bellatrix hadn't been quite so quick to ignore the opinion of Wizarding society when Andromeda's elopement had been splashed across the papers! "Besides, no one who knows you could have you pegged as anything other than a perfect little virgin bride," she laughed, a little meanly.

This, predictably, didn't make Narcissa feel any better, she stared at the floor glumly, unsurprised when the sound of her parents arguing in her father's study carried out into the hall.

"I have a headache. I'm going to lie down," she announced, standing up.

Bellatrix nodded distractedly still pouring over the paper, so Narcissa turned and stomped angrily up the stairs. She marched along the first floor corridors before furiously flinging open the door of her bedroom. She had not agreed to have her reputation besmirched! She felt like screaming into a pillow! And was very tempted to do so... except there was a large eagle owl sitting on her dressing table, attacking her hair brush. Narcissa watched it, wide-eyed and confused, once it seemed satisfied that the silver hairbrush was indeed dead, it hooted impatiently and bobbed its head towards a letter it must have delivered.

Narcissa crossed the room and picked up the note, she didn't recognise the script, but assumed she knew who it was from – Lucius. It _had_ to be, she couldn't imagine anyone else who had a reason to write to her. She waited for the bird to fly off out of the window, but it seemed in no hurry to leave.

"Fine. _Stay_," she sighed, breaking the seal. At least the owl couldn't read, couldn't talk, and hence couldn't make matters any worse.

_Miss Narcissa Black,_

_Forgive me for taking the liberty of writing to you, but I felt I should offer some form of congratulations to you on your impending marriage to Mr Lucius Malfoy, my son._

Narcissa gaped at the letter in her hands. Everyone knew that Mr and Mrs Malfoy were separated. Mrs Malfoy was said to be living in France where she had family. She had not been actively involved in the Malfoy's affairs for some considerable length of time as far as Narcissa was aware. What had prompted her to write now? Andromeda hadn't received any such letter. She sat down on the edge of her bed to continue reading:

_The news came as quite a shock, I can promise you. However, I should like to assure you that you have nothing to fear from me. Other members of the family I fear I cannot vouch for, but such things should hardly been written in one's first correspondence! _

_And the point of this correspondence, apart from offering words of congratulation, is to offer you an invitation to my villa here outside Marseilles. I should dearly like to meet you, my dear. I understand that the wedding is to take place almost immediately, and you will not have a great deal of free time beforehand, but if you send Hibou back with your reply, letting me know when you are available I am confident that we can arrange something. I have a great deal to say to you._

_Kind regards,_

_Mrs Evangeline Malfoy_

Narcissa finished reading the letter, then folded it neatly and laid it back on the dresser, deciding that she would answer it later. She was desperate for a nap- or simply to lie in her bed and stop thinking for a while, but it was not to be.  
  
Mrs. Malfoy's eagle owl was followed by a plump, snowy-white bird from Great Aunt Araminta, a pair of barn owls from Cousin Violet, and a great, scarlet howler from Grimmauld Place.  
  
Narcissa's ears had barely quit ringing from Aunt Agrippina's screeching (and rather unreasonable) accusations that she was a "Tart! A trollop! RUINATION ON US ALL!" when another flock of bird swooped in. There were soon so many that one of the house-elves had to be sent down to the cellar for more owl-treats. It seemed that everyone who could claim even the most casual acquaintance with the Blacks felt compelled to send a note congratulating them on their news, and not-so-subtly sniffing for the "real" story of what had gone on.  
  
"Well, we can hardly confine the wedding just to the family now," Narcissa's mother said at dinner. "Besides, there's hardly any point keeping it a secret now that word is out. We'll have to invite the Goyles, and the Hopskisses, and the Menchins..."  
  
"I don't think that Mr. Malfoy will want a lot of people," Narcissa said nervously.  
  
"Well, he ought to have thought of that before he went running to the blasted Prophet!" Orion snapped, rolling his eyes when Narcissa was shocked.  
  
"You don't really think that he's the one who told them?" Narcissa said, incredulously. How was that possible? Surely Lucius wouldn't want more rumours spreading about him?  
  
"Oh, please, Cissa," Bellatrix copied her father's expression. "Would you rather be known as a jilted groom, or a rakish despoiler of young girls?"  
  
"No one is being despoiled!" Orion cut back in wearily before his daughters could begin a row, "Regardless of how it came about, the deed is done. The story has been printed. I think your mother is right. We'll have to have a big wedding now. Narcissa, why don't you write Mr. Malfoy and get an idea of how much he'll give you?"  
  
"Give me?"  
  
"Money to pay for the wedding. This is their fault, after all," he sniffed, as if one day had been enough time to forget his own complicity in bringing about the event.  
  
Narcissa thought that she would rather die than ask anyone for money- especially Lucius!- but she didn't have a choice, and so she excused herself and wearily returned to her room. Mrs. Malfoy's letter was still on her desk, along with a stack of other notes that she had barely begun sifting through. She reached for a quill, but then gasped as she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror above her head. Sitting behind her, was Andromeda!

She spun around, convinced that the stress had finally got to her, certain that she was imagining the reflection in the glass. Except, when she had finished turning, Andromeda was still there. Narcissa started to shake, for a moment she thought she was going to burst into tears, and then she recognised the intense emotion coursing through her body and robbing her of speech - pure, unadulterated anger.

"Oh Cissa!" Andromeda exclaimed wretchedly, stepping forwards without preamble. "If I had known I'd-"

"You'd what?" Narcissa snarled, her voice striking Andromeda like a slap to the face. "You would have done your duty? You would have married Lucius Malfoy as you were supposed to? _As you have always known you were meant to?"_ Narcissa's voice steadily increased in anger and volume as she spoke.

"No," Andromeda shook her head sadly. "No, I would never have married Lucius Malfoy," she whispered.

Narcissa snorted. "So you decided to run off with your Muggle-born fiancé, humiliating him and destroying us!" she shrieked.

"I never meant to hurt you, Cissa, never ever, but you have to see that I couldn't marry him. I'm in love with Ted. I-" she trailed off under the look of disgust in her little sister's eyes.

"Love?" Narcissa snarled. "What's that like, Andy? Do tell; you've robbed me of my chance of ever finding that elusive emotion." She took a deep breath and plunged on recklessly, "And don't expect me to ever forgive you for doing that!"

Andromeda blanched, she shook her head soundlessly for a moment, and then managed to force herself to speak: "Don't say that, Cissa. Please, I-I can't bear it. You don't have to marry him either-"

"Andy, don't you understand?" Narcissa crossed the space between them, not seeming like the little sister anymore. "The Malfoys will _destroy_ us if I do what you've done. Not that it matters to you," she hissed cruelly; "you are no longer one of us."

"Don't say that, Cissa," Andromeda begged, tears falling freely down her cheeks, but Narcissa was riding the high of too much anger to care. "You can't marry him, you don't know him. I have to tell you, he-"

There was a loud **_CRACK!_** and a battered looking house elf appeared. "Mr Malfoy is here to see Miss Narcissa, misses," it squeaked, eyes bulging when it saw Andromeda.

Narcissa stood abruptly. "If you'll excuse me, _my fiancé_ requires my attention."  
  
"Cissa!" Andromeda called after her little sister, "Wait!" She stood, but didn't dare to follow her into the hall. Narcissa didn't let herself look back. She tried not to think about the fact that she might be seeing the older girl for the very last time, or of all the  
other things that she might have said, and to concentrate instead on placing one foot in front of the other and marching down the stairs. She couldn't allow herself to feel. She couldn't allow herself to wonder. Perfect numbness was the only way she could carry herself through the ordeal with decorum.  
  
Lucius was waiting for her at the foot of the stairs. A little of her worry melted away when she noticed how wickedly handsome he looked. Narcissa could almost hate him for how calm and poised he appeared. He seemed elegant and perfectly at ease as he stood with one hand on the banister, and the other curled around a silver-topped cane.  
  
_Millionaire playboy, indeed!_ Narcissa thought, churlishly as she tried to discount how easy it was to see his appeal. Only a few days earlier she had judged him and found him wanting, so it was quite alarming how rapidly her opinion had changed. She had always found his long, silky hair something of an affectation, but pulled away from his face and secured by a black leather thong, it looked exquisitely masculine and  
appealing. Likewise, there was something agreeable about the shape of his face- when he wasn't smirking at her, that was!  
  
"Miss Narcissa," he said in greeting when she finally reached the last step. He lifted her hand to kiss it, but she snatched it away. "Such warm greetings," he murmured, not showing if he was ruffled or not, "No wonder I'm so fond of this family."  
  
"As if I'd let you kiss me after what you did!"  
  
"What _I_ did?" he answered, frowning as if in incomprehension. When she continued to hold herself aloof, comprehension dawned. "Ah, the article in the _Prophet_."  
  
"Yes, the article in the _Prophet_!" she hissed, trying very hard to keep her voice even. Treacherous little tears were already pricking at the backs of her eyes, making her vision watery. She jutted her chin upwards to try to mask their appearance. "That was very...very ungentlemanly of you, Mr. Malfoy!"  
  
A smile tugged at the corner of Lucius's lips, making her even angrier. He thought it was funny to toy with her reputation? "You really are quite adorable when you're furious, Miss Narcissa. I shall have to make you angry more often."  
  
"Why!" she gaped, astonished that he would be so casually flip. She was gathering her wits to shout back something acidic, when she was silenced by the third most shocking thing that had happened in the past three days...

He kissed her.

It was only the lightest brush of his lips against the tip of her nose, but it sent Narcissa shooting away from Lucius as if she'd been burnt. Unfortunately, as she hadn't quite managed to make it down the last stair, Narcissa tripped, catching her ankle on the lip of the next step and throwing herself completely off balance.

Lucius moved instinctively to catch her, arms winding around her body, so that, for just a moment, she was crushed against his chest, the broad expanse of hard muscle lay flat beneath her small hands. She was enveloped by warmth and strength and a rich, masculine cologne that settle deep in her blood. And far too soon she was being set to rights, set apart from the solidity of his body.

"We'll have to do something about your skittish tendencies," Lucius drawled, wholly unaffected, adding it to the bottom of the lip-biting, apologetic-shrugging list he had started to compile.

"I am not skittish!" Narcissa snapped, trying to ignore the way her hands were still tingling. She hadn't expected him to feel quite so- so... she wasn't even sure what to call it, but she hadn't expected to like it quite so much either! The discovery that she had was really rather alarming.

"No?" Lucius looked ready to argue the point, but seemed to decide on reflection to let it pass. "I suppose it might just be youth," he said.

"Well, if you only came here to insult me..." Narcissa stuck her nose up in the air and started to turn, careful this time of where she placed her feet. She stopped, mid-step however when Lucius spoke again.  
  
"I didn't come to insult you. I came to apologize."  
  
She spun around. "Oh! So you admit-!"  
  
Lucius laid a finger across her lips. Feather-light, she nevertheless felt a sizzle of electricity that shot all the way down to her spine. "I'm not admitting anything," he said sternly, "I came to tell you how sorry that I am that your name got raked through the mud."  
  
"But if you didn't-" Narcissa saw in her fianc's eyes that she should have let the subject drop, but like a dog with a bone, she couldn't let it go.  
  
"I have my suspicions," he growled, "But you needn't trouble yourself. It's been taken care of."

"Taken care of?" Narcissa breathed, wary of something in his tone.  
  
"Taken care of," he repeated firmly, and then added, "It helps to have powerful friends."  
  
She wondered who could possibly be more powerful than the Malfoys, but she didn't have long to dwell on the question because he was holding out his elbow as if he wanted her to take it. She did so, but frowned curiously. "Where are we going?" she asked.  
  
Lucius smiled down at her. "To see my apology."  
  
"To see?" she repeated, still confused.  
  
Lucius grinned broadly. "Ah, Miss Black," he teased, "Surely you don't doubt that I know this much about women at least?"  
  
"Oh?" In spite of herself, she felt her lips turning upwards, "And what is that, Mr. Malfoy."  
  
"That the value of an apology increases in direct proportion with the box accompanying it."  
  
"Mr. Malfoy!" Narcissa laughed, covering her mouth with her hands because she didn't really want him to see it, but unable to stifle the impulse. "You're incorrigible!"  
  
"I try."  
  
She allowed herself to be led through the front hall and onto the porch.  
  
"Do you trust me?" Lucius asked. Narcissa's first impulse was to frown. How could she possibly trust him after so short an acquaintance? Then again, she supposed that was only a proper feeling to hold toward one's intended spouse? She didn't quite know how to answer, because Lucius made a weary sound. "Just this once," he amended, and then fished a clean handkerchief out of his pocket. Narcissa submitted as he folded the cloth into a long strip and tied it around her eyes. "No peeking!" he admonished, as if he could sense her fingers twitching on her skirt.  
  
"I'm not," she protested, and stopped trying to see out of the edges of the makeshift blindfold while she was led a little ways in the dark.  
  
"Here we are," Lucius said at last.

He pulled away the blindfold and Narcissa let out an awed gasp. Tethered a few feet in front of them, pawing restlessly at the ground, its chestnut coat gleaming in the evening light, was an absolutely beautiful Aethonon mare.

"Oh, she's gorgeous!" Narcissa breathed, enthralled, watching as the striking animal flexed its large wings.

"She's yours," Lucius said softly, studying Narcissa's delightful reaction instead of paying any attention to the Aethonon. Her skin was glowing and her eyes positively sparkled, a small smile tugged at the corners of Lucius's mouth. _Yes_, he decided, _he would be in very grave danger of spoiling her completely._

"Oh, but I-" Narcissa began, intending to added the words 'couldn't possibly accept her' to the end of that sentence, except she really didn't want to, and so the polite refusal that was all planned out in her head wouldn't come.

_Besides,_ she reasoned, stepping forwards so that she could pet the Aethonon's velvety muzzle and escape Lucius's questioning stare, _it would be very rude to do so_. It wasn't as if Lucius had showered her with gifts, this was his very first one. She'd had to make do with the engagement ring he had given her sister after all. She was due a little indulgence. All the same she didn't want him to think that her good opinion could be bought, or that she would forgive any misdemeanour if he simply threw enough money at it.

She was puzzling this over when thoughts of the Malfoys' bank balance reminded her of her father's earlier request.

"Oh, but you?" Lucius finally prompted, impatient of waiting for Narcissa to complete the unfinished sentence herself.

"Oh I- I had something to ask you, Mr Malfoy," she murmured uncomfortably, her attention deliberately focused on the Aethonon and not her fiancé. The winged horse had calmed a great deal under her gentle strokes. "Well, my father wanted me to ask really..." her voice trailed off. "You know, our stables aren't really fit-" she began a completely different tangent.

"You can keep her in my stables until the ones here are repaired. You were saying-"

"Are they going to be?" Narcissa interrupted, finally turning to look at Lucius. She bit her lip; he was looking very mildly annoyed, and very rightly so, she supposed. She hadn't even managed a 'thank you' for his present.

"Of course," Lucius frowned, wasn't his family paying for the whole of Ravensden to be restored? The Blacks were getting an awful lot out of this marriage, he thought a little churlishly. "Now, you and your father had something to ask?" he pressed. Why did he think he could guess the topic if Orion Black was involved? The embarrassed blush that stained Narcissa's cheeks simply confirmed his suspicions.

"Hewantstoknowhowmuchyou'llpayforthewedding," Narcissa said in a garbled rush.

Lucius blinked, and tried to decipher what had just been frantically mumbled at him. Giving up and trying not to laugh, he said: "Pardon, Miss Narcissa, I didn't quite catch that?"

Narcissa stepped away from the Aethonon and turned to face him, looking absolutely mortified. "My father would like to know how much you are willing to pay for the wedding," she said slowly, doing her little trick of staring at his left shoulder instead of his face as she spoke, so she didn't see him frown.

"Whatever's necessary, you have a carte blanche as far as money is concerned, surely you've already been told that?"

Narcissa's eyes widened a fraction. "Don't you think that's a little... excessive?" she asked weakly.

"No," Lucius argued testily, "I think we have a certain image to maintain and I refuse to be part of a mediocre ceremony."

"Oh," she replied. She turned her face back toward the winged horse so that he could only make out a tiny glimpse of the uncertainty in her eyes. "Oh, I suppose not."  
  
He could tell from the sound of her voice that there was something more that she wanted to ask, but he didn't force the issue. He stepped up beside her to stroke the horse while he waited for her to muster the resolve to voice it, knowing that it wouldn't be long.  
  
"You didn't do so much for Andromeda," she finally said, blurting what was worrying her out in the form of a statement rather than a question.  
  
"Well, whatever I did with Andromeda obviously didn't work," he snapped back automatically, but instantly regretted it. "You are not your sister," he revised in a more thoughtful tone.  
  
"No." Narcissa nodded, accepting this explanation, and developing an absolutely adorable pinkness across her cheeks. She continued petting the horse for another quiet moment before she turned toward him again. "You don't have to, you know."  
  
"Perhaps I want to."  
  
He could practically see the small "Why?" hovering on her lips, but she wisely didn't ask it. Instead, she afforded him another small smile. "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy."  
  
"You're very welcome." He replied.  
  
..ooOOoo..

Lucius left soon after, so Narcissa made her way back to her bedroom. There was only one last thing to do before she could succumb to the temptations of sleep. Stepping inside her room, Narcissa closed the door and wandered over to the dresser where Mrs Malfoy's letter was still sitting, unanswered.

She wasn't sure why she hadn't mentioned it to her parents, her sister, or her fiancé. She supposed Andromeda's sudden unexpected, _unwanted_ appearance had muddled her thoughts. She hadn't told anyone about that either, and from the relative calm of the household she assumed the elf hadn't said anything.

Narcissa didn't know when or why she had become so secretive, maybe it was because she had been so set apart from the rest of family and felt so isolated, she felt forced to tackle things alone as if to underline her self-reliance?

She sighed, and picked up the letter, settling down on the edge of her bed to reread its curious content.

It sounded like a warning.  
  
Narcissa couldn't account for the sense of uneasiness that it gave her any other way. Mrs. Malfoy's words were perfectly polite, and it wasn't unusual that a woman would want to correspond with her son's recently announced fiancé, but there was still something that she couldn't put her finger on that made her nervous. No witch worth her wand would discount a hunch, and so Narcissa was reluctant to reply until she was able to pinpoint the cause of her discomfort.  
  
Narcissa put the letter back on her desk and resolved to think about it in the morning, but she found that she couldn't sleep. She didn't know quite what to say to Evangaline Malfoy, but to offer no reply at all seemed the worse possible course of action to take. She didn't think that Mrs. Malfoy had much influence on her son, but she wasn't certain. Besides, the older woman might have some insight to offer on the duties- and burdens- borne by a Mrs. Malfoy- not that Narcissa would care to hear them all! She had only managed to hear snippets of gossip about the other woman. Generally, things were not spoken of when young, unmarried girls were in the room, but she knew enough to make her worry.

Julius and Evangaline Malfoy had been an arranged marriage too. Impeccably pureblooded, she had also been chosen to improve the line- but something had gone terribly wrong. When Lucius was a small boy, even before he had gone to Hogwarts, his mother had run away. As far as Narcissa knew, she had never returned to residence at Malfoy Manor again.  
  
Of course, the Malfoys hadn't gotten divorced. That was unthinkable for a family of their standing and class, but they hadn't been happy either...  
  
Narcissa sighed at herself, trying to put it through her stubborn head that she wasn't meant to be happy. She was meant to be a respectable wife and, eventually, a mother. She had to learn to be content. The prospect wasn't really so daunting, was it? She would hardly consider herself in love with Mr. Malfoy now, but they had spent a perfectly pleasant evening together.  
  
She felt her cheeks begin to glow as she remembered her gift and when she recalled the earlier kiss. She tried to attribute the fluttery sensation in her stomach to the simple joy of companionship, but she knew that the concept was strained.  
  
Try as she might, she could not still her mind. So, hoping to buy herself a few more moments in bed the next morning, she decided to tackle her correspondence after all. She first replied to her friends and cousins- short, 2 line replies which enclosed a wedding invitation and a promise that they would all "talk soon" and then faced the prospect of writing to her mother-in-law again.  
  
"_Dear Mrs. Malfoy_," she wrote, and smiled at the line...but then frowned. Did she still go by "Malfoy"? Was addressing her by her formal name too stuffy? After consulting the note that she had been sent, Narcissa decided to keep it and to continue.  
_  
"Thank you very much for your kind invitation. I am looking forward to meeting you very much_." The last bit was a lie. Truly, the note had made Narcissa rather nervous, but it wouldn't do to say so of course. "_Lucius has told me a lot about you,"_ she wrote on autopilot- but then crossed it out because it was another lie. Lucius hadn't made the first mention of his mother during their short acquaintance. "_Your son has been very kind to me_," she wrote with a bit more assurance.  
  
It took a full minute of staring at the half-blank sheet before Narcissa was able to continue: "_I hope that you don't believe everything that you read in the papers concerning our engagement. Our fathers determined, quite recently, that we were better suited to one another than Lucius and my sister had been and thought we'd better go through with it quickly_."  
  
She reread the lines again, disappointed with how inelegant the lines were, but too tired to care overly. She tacked on, "_I hope that we will see you for the wedding. Will you be staying here at Ravensden?"_  
She doubted that she would be at the Manor. "_I will see you then. Yours, Narcissa Black."  
_  
Setting down her quill, Narcissa summoned and elf to take the letter to the owlery and finally settled into her bed.


	5. Wedding Day

**Chapter 5**

**Wedding Day**

All too soon, it was morning again. Then, before Narcissa knew it, it was the day of the wedding. She hadn't seen Lucius since he delivered her pony- though she barely had time to miss him in the frantic bustle of her days. The morning after Lucius's visit, when she awoke, there was a notice in the Prophet where the Gossip Column used to be, informing that the usual correspondent was taking an unexplained leave of absence. Further mentions in the Prophet were confined a formal wedding announcement.

When her parents announced the "Larger wedding", Narcissa envisioned a guest list at around 100- the bare minimum number of family and close associates they could invite, but the actual list of names on her mother's parchment would reach from end to end of the Manor if it was completely unrolled. Her parents had spared no expense- which was to say, they hadn't worried themselves with any sort of restraint in spending the Malfoy's money. The downstairs was in chaos as painters and builders and furniture makers tromped in and out, levitating this and that as they restored the house to its former glory.

The ceremony moved out of the rose garden, and into the side lawn which, to Narcissa's horror, her parents had _new _rose hedges installed. They paid the Department of Weather Augury and Modification an absolutely exorbitant sum to ensure that rainclouds forcast for the wedding morning drifted toward Wales instead. Narcissa herself had become secondary to the event. She had always heard that a bride was meant to be a princess on her wedding day, but no one paid her a bit of notice when the fine, sunny (as paid for) morning dawned. So it was that, hungry, but too nervous to eat, she found herself wandering the grounds of Ravensden while the rest of the family made final preparations for her to wed.

Narcissa avoided the rose garden and whole surrounding area for fear of being trampled underfoot, choosing instead to walk up the gentle hill towards the wooded copse, so that she might sit down upon the old oak tree's swing and collect her thoughts.

However, collecting her thoughts proved to be a practically impossible task. Narcissa couldn't concentrate on _anything _for longer than a few seconds. And when she did manage to form a conscious thought it was laughable. She spent a good five minutes panicking about a book  
she hadn't read for Divination, only to remember that she wasn't even taking Divination that year!

It was too much, too fast, too soon. Narcissa rested her elbows on her knees, held her head in her hands and scrunched her eyes shut. _She couldn't do this; she wasn't old enough, strong enough, brave enough_. She wanted to curl up into a tiny little ball and hide in a dark, safe hole where no one would ever find her. She didn't want to be Mrs Narcissa Malfoy! She wanted to stay Miss Narcissa Black, a normal teenager with normal teenage worries. Was that so much ask? She demanded of the world at large, opening her eyes and when she heard a soft cooing, and finding that there was a little pale grey dove standing on the ground in front of her.

Narcissa stared at it blankly for a moment, and then groaned. Her parents hadn't ordered doves for the wedding had they? This one might have escaped. She watched glumly as the bird fluttered towards the oak waiting for it to take flight, but instead it hopped out of sight  
behind the tree trunk.

Narcissa stared back down at her lap, and began to worry that she would trip while walking down the aisle and fall flat on her face in front of every single important witch and wizard in the country, but a soft whooshing sound caught her attention and she twisted on the swing- and then shrieked. Where the little dove had disappeared behind the oak stood a woman.

The swing slipped from beneath Narcissa as she started in surprise, flinging her inelegantly onto the floor before swinging back to hit her against shoulder blades a moment later.

"Oh my!" The woman exclaimed, a gloved hand covering her mouth anxiously. "That looked awfully painful, are you all right?"

"Yes," Narcissa spluttered leaping to her feet, blushing furiously as she tried to brush twigs and leaves off her dress. "Yes, thank you, I'm-I'm-"

The woman, the animagus, smiled down at her. "You are Narcissa Black." She was actually not very much taller than Narcissa herself, her figure though lovely, was very petite, but something in the way she held herself seemed to give her added stature.

"I'm- yes, I'm Narcissa," Narcissa stammered, at a complete lost for words.

"Splendid," the older woman said and extended her hand. "I'm Evangaline Malfoy."

Narcissa blinked and stared for a few moments, before remembering to take the hand and shake it. "Excuse me," she said, flushing. "I don't know where I've put my manners."

"Probably tucked them away to make room for courage," the older woman said in a wry tone and with a strange smirk on her face so that Narcissa didn't know if she was meant to agree or disagree or simply laugh. In the end, she did neither, but merely stared at her feet uncomfortably.

"I'm very pleased that you could make it for the wedding," Narcissa said when the silence threatened to become too overwhelming.

"Oh, I wouldn't miss it," Evangeline replied, and continued to regard Narcissa with her cool grey gaze that was somehow achingly familiar.

"Have you seen Mr. Malfoy this morning?" Narcissa asked.

The other blonde arched a perfect brow, "My husband?"

"Your son." Narcissa bit her tongue, realizing now her error in referring to her fiancé so formally, "Lucius, I mean."

"Ah." Evangeline's lips twisted upwards on the edges, "I've _seen _him." She remarked in a way that hinted at things unsaid, but she didn't give Narcissa a chance to offer a further query. "And now I've come to see you."

Miss Black offered a little smile, quite certain that her poor nerves- already half frazzled in anticipation of what was to come that afternoon- would not last through the interview. Mrs. Malfoy had done nothing untoward, but the sense of scrutiny that she exuded was enough to make Narcissa bite her lip.

"Turn round," the older woman said, flicking her wand to conjure a neat little chair which she deposited herself upon in a graceful sweep. Her tone did not admit refusals, and Narcissa did as she was told.

"Ah yes," came Evangeline's verdict, "Malfoy money does buy very pretty things."

Although she resented the insinuation in the remark, Narcissa realized that she could not deny it. Were she to protest her person not for sale, the fresh-rooted rose garden, and freshly papered drawing rooms of Ravensden Hall would belie the truth. The Malfoys had bought her- she only feared she would not prove worth the price.

"Oh, come darling- don't look so glum." Mrs. Malfoy reached up from her perch to pat Narcissa's hand- a gesture more unnerving than sympathetic, "You're the very newest toy! Lucius's lovely little doll..."

"I'm no one's plaything!" Narcissa snapped, surprising herself with the sudden outburst which tripped out of her mouth before it even had time to fully form in her mind. She was mortified, of course, and started to say so, when Evangaline cut in with laughter.

"No, no. Dear. Don't ruin it with an apology!" the lady said, to Narcissa's utter astonishment. "How utterly delightful! What a fool Julius is. You're so much more promising than your sister!"

The bulk of the comments meant nothing to Narcissa, but the remark of her own sibling drew her attention. "You knew Andromeda?" she asked.

"Of course." Evangaline smoothed down her robes- fashioned from a smooth, shiny silk the same colour as her animagus form. "She wrote to me in France- some sentimental nonsense applauding my courage for 'fleeing a loveless marriage' and begging sympathy."

Narcissa's cheeks burned. It sounded very much like something Andromeda might have written, though she could guess from Mrs. Malfoy's haughty tone how the letter was received. "You weren't sympathetic," she modulated her voice carefully so that they were somewhere between a statement and a question.

"Of course not- idiot girl!" Narcissa hoped that the 'idiot' in question was her sister and not herself. "I have three million galleons a year and no one to answer to but myself. Julius has his

precious son and no one to nag him about his obnoxious habits- by my reckoning, our marriage was a wild success!"

Narcissa feared her mouth was hanging open- a belief that was shortly confirmed by Mrs. Malfoy's frown. "I do believe you're shocked. Well, I confess I'm disappointed, Miss Black," she said with a weary sigh. "But if you want to go breaking your heart, Malfoy men are fine rocks

to dash against."

"Lucius isn't breaking my heart!" the girl said quickly- _too _quickly to judge by the narrowing of Mrs. Malfoy's eyes. "I understand that it's only business."

"Do you?" Evangaline asked. "_Good._ Then there's still hope." She stood from the chair and smoothed down her skirts again, taking her time as she moved the short distance to here Narcissa was standing and cupping the girl's chin in her two gloved palms. "I tell you 'congratulations' and I mean it- you're the luckiest girl in the world. Beautiful. Envied. Lucius will give you anything you ask for- _except _ his heart. Never ask for it, Narcissa," she counseled

gravely, and then held her gaze for a long, silent moment as if to impress this advice into her young daughter-in-law's mind.

"Well..." she dropped her hands abruptly, breaking the connection between them, "You should be getting back to the house. You'll need to get ready soon. I'm glad we had this 'little chat'. If you ever need to ask anything-"

"There is one thing." Narcissa spoke quickly, her tongue once again outrunning her conscious thought.

"Oh?" Evangaline inclined her head, indicating her willingness to entertain the query.

Narcissa swallowed before she spoke. "If you were so happy, why did you go away?"

Evangaline's lips twisted into a sighing sort of smile. "Did I say that I was happy?" Then, without waiting for Narcissa to reply there was a puff of silver smoke, and a small grey bird soared away into the sky.

..ooOOoo..

"Narcissa Black! Where in the name of the Gods have you been?"

Narcissa jumped, as she was pounced upon by her frantic mother the second she crossed the threshold of Ravensden Hall. She had walked in a slow daze back to the house after her unexpected meeting with Evangaline Malfoy. The woman who was very soon to be her mother-in-law, Narcissa wasn't quite sure how to feel about that.

"I just went out for a breath of fresh are, mama. You didn't seem to-"

"You can breathe all the fresh air you like after the wedding ceremony," Mrs Black declared, pushing her daughter towards the staircase. Now that the day had actually arrived, and there was no way that it could possibly be avoided, she seemed determined to make sure it went as smoothing as wizardingly possible, undoubtedly terrified of a repeat of her niece Lyra's wedding. "Which, I might add, we are never going to be ready for at this rate!" she said, panicking and barking a few orders at a couple of very worn out looking elves.

"Mama, it will be fine," Narcissa assured her mother, surprising even herself by the calmness of her tone. She sighed glumly, well once the worst was known what was the use in worrying? She was resigned to her fate.

"We haven't even started fixing your hair, your makeup, your dress-"

Narcissa tuned out as her mother marched her upstairs where she had a whole entourage ready to begin working on the bride.

Bellatrix caught them at the top of the staircase prepared to help; her hair and makeup were already perfectly fixed, although she was still wrapped in a dressing gown and hadn't dressed yet.

"Well now, Cissa," she sighed, catching the lost, resigned look on her baby sister's face, "this is your wedding not your funeral. Do you think you could manage a smile?"

"Bellatrix you are not helping matters!" Mrs Black snapped, pushing past her other daughter.

Narcissa didn't say a word, couldn't say a word, all she could think about was what had become of the last woman to be a Malfoy bride, her parting words and the chilling warning that she had given: _Lucius will give you anything you ask for- **except** his heart. Never ask for it._

..ooOOoo..

"She's back!"

Sirius Black burst into the smoking room of Ravensden hall to relay his message, sounding almost disappointed as he reported the news.

Sitting by the window near Rodolphus Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy pretended not to notice, thereby keeping the relief from showing on his face. He told himself that principal part of any interest in whether his fiancé appeared at the ceremony to become his bride was a matter of pride. Being stood up by one Miss Black was galling- but losing another would simply be intolerable. He did, however, own to a small degree of partiality toward Miss Narcissa- in a harmless, affectionate way. She was a brave, intelligent little thing after all- highly admirable qualities for a wife. She had given him her word that she would not attempt to flee the wedding and –rare indeed for a Malfoy- he had trusted her.

Therefore, although no sigh escaped his lips, or release of tension manifested itself in his handsome features, Lucius felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Narcissa Black had returned. Even now she was being primped and painted and laced into a frilly dress in preparation to become his wife.

Lost in his musing, Lucius didn't notice as Rodolphus tried to hand him a glass of wine.

"Starting to get nervous, eh Malfoy?" he asked, looking a little surprised.

Recalled to attention, Lucius made a show of rolling his eyes, accepting the wineglass and taking a long swig. "Don't be ridiculous," he fired back. "There isn't anything to be nervous about."

"Only binding yourself irrevocably to one woman for the rest of your life." This time Lestrange sounded surly. He had been rebuffed in his attempts to convince Lucius to join him for "one last hurrah" the night before.

"For Salazar's sake, Rodolphus, I'm marrying the girl, not sewing her to my arm." Malfoy's hurrahed whenever they pleased- as demonstrated by his wretched father and the giggly redhead that he was currently "showing about the lawn".

Lucius stood and stretched, walking toward the window so that he could see the grounds. A little crowd was already beginning to gather amongst the roses.

"Are you ready to go down yet?" Lestrange asked, consulting his watch. "We only have twenty more minutes."

"You go ahead," Lucius said, waving his friend away, "I need to go back to my room."

"Making a break for it, Malfoy?" Sirius, (who had parlayed his role as errand boy into an excuse to linger in the smoking room with the men) asked with a wild grin.

His father gave him an arch look, to which the boy responded, "Well, I can hope, can't I?" but then wisely slipped back out of the room.

"I'll see you outside then," Rodolphus said with a shrug. "I want to find Bella anyhow."

Lucius followed his friend as far as the hallway, but then they parted ways. He had just reached the third floor landing when he saw Orion Black.

His soon-to-be father-in-law was pacing back and forth along the passageway, seemingly unaware of Lucius's arrival until good-manners, and the realization he couldn't pass unseen, forced the younger man to clear his throat and speak.

"Mr Black?" he drawled evenly. "Is something wrong?"

Orion Black stopped pacing for long enough to turn and glower at Lucius. "You're either stupid or impertinent Malfoy, and as I know that you are one of the cleverest wizards of your age, I shall assume the latter."

Lucius raised one cold eyebrow, and wondered if the ink had even dried on the cheque his father had signed that morning for a crate load of brand new tea towels - cashmere and embroidered with the Black family crest - for the Ravensden house elves. ("As if any of the wedding

guests would even _see_ a house elf!" Julius had complained furiously, as he scored his signature onto the cheque with such force that he broke the nib of his quill.) Their money was good enough to squander, but their company was not good enough to tolerate. There was something intolerably haughty about the Blacks. Lucius suppose he should make allowances, the man was about to lose his daughter after all, if not in exactly the usual manner, then at least enough to chaff.

"You're worried about Narcissa," Lucius supplied, for once omitting the 'Miss'.

Orion finally stood still, his eyes flashed angrily. "I am worried about _you _Lucius," he snapped. "If you hurt my daughter, in any way, it will be the last thing you ever do. I won't care who you are, or whose family you belong to, or the size of your bank balance. I will simply kill you," he finished, his tone completely serious and deadly.

"I believe you think you would," Lucius nodded icily, staring back at the other wizard unblinkingly. "I also believe you would not be successful." Orion looked ready to reach for his wand and curse him on the spot, so Lucius added: "But I have absolutely no intention of hurting your daughter. She will have everything she needs- anything money can buy. She will want for nothing."

Orion shook his head sadly. "That won't be enough, but I believe you, when you say you think it will," he smirked sarcastically.

Lucius's eyes flashed dangerously. Who was Orion Black- a man who had squandered more money in the last week than he had probably seen in the five years beforehand- to lecture him about what money could buy? He would have said something to this effect, if not for the interrupting pop of a house-elf's arrival.

"Mistress bid me tell the Masters that they is ready," it squeaked self-importantly, then dropped to its knees, wrinkling the snowy cashmere.

"We ought to go then," Orion said, pausing and then waiting for Lucius to follow. Malfoy enjoyed the flash of worry in the older man's eyes as Lucius kept him waiting a moment too long- but he finally fell into step behind him and followed him outside of the house.

An enormous crowd was gathered in the Ravensden rose gardens. There had to be four hundred people, at least. He picked out some of the faces he knew: the Rosiers, the McNairs, the Batleys...even his mother had returned from France. Standing next to his father (who seemed to be paying Mrs. Malfoy more mind than the chit that had come as his date), she caught his eye and offered a small but approving smile. Every witch and wizard whose name appeared on the Avalon register, and plenty whose names did not were wedged into chairs arranged in neat white rows facing the little gazebo where Lucius had first met his future bride. Strewn with flowers, a little make-shift altar had been erected inside, and this is where Lucius went to stand.

Rodolphus Lestrange, who had been selected as Lucius's best man, was already standing near to the front. As soon as the men took their places a hush fell over the crowd.

Lucius had told his friend the truth- he wasn't nervous. However, becoming the sudden focus of attention made him feel uneasy and exposed. Happily, he did not hold the spotlight long. At a nod from Mrs. Black, an unseen orchestra began to play, and Bellatrix Black stepped out of her house clad in a scarlet dress. Lucius's eyes flicked over her coolly, and then he returned his attention to the crowd, continuing to identify friends and associates, but his gaze returned to the house when everyone stood.

Lucius sucked in his breath.

He was well aware of the cliché of grooms struck dumb by the sight of their brides, and disinclined to embody it- but he couldn't help it. Perhaps he had been taken unawares. Smugly certain that his lack of any serious attachment to Narcissa would immunize him to the sight, he hadn't taken any preparations to harden himself against it. It was a miscalculation of the highest degree.

It wasn't enough to say that she was beautiful. Bellatrix was beautiful. The flowers were beautiful. Narcissa was...Lucius struggled, but couldn't find a word to adequately capture her description. She was wearing a very simple white dress and had completely dispensed with a veil. Orange blossoms were in her hair, and were mingled with forget-me-nots in the bouquet she carried in her arms.

Lucius couldn't pry his eyes away. They remained locked on her image, drinking thirstily the sight of her lush, suspiciously curvy body and the golden ringlets of her upswept hair.

She looked older than usual- probably a clever combination of makeup and charms meant to prevent the company from asking awkward questions, but he was very fond of the effect. Perhaps even more pleasing than the girl's appearance was the way that she carried herself down the aisle. She had to feel the eyes on her skin- _had_ to be feeling afraid and anxious and possibly angry as well, but she didn't show it. Shoulder's back, chin lifted, she perfectly executed their ruse. He could almost believe it himself: that Narcissa was a lovestruck girl who actually wanted to be walking toward him. Then, their eyes met, and he knew.

He knew that he was stealing from her every dream that she had ever dared to dream, crushing every hope and longing that she had ever cheerfully indulged in. He was taking everything, and giving nothing half so precious in return.

Lucius had never cared for the feeling of others, never worried about trampling them underfoot, but when Narcissa Black finally reached him at the altar, staring up at him with eyes so sad and blue, and old beyond their years, he knew... that he was wrong, that the wedding was wrong, that he could not punish Narcissa for the sins of her sister, but the realization had come too late, he could not free her now, he could not save her from himself.

..ooOOoo..

Narcissa was certain that she would remember nothing of her wedding ceremony save one moment. The very last moment. The Druid had just pronounced them man and wife, Narcissa had stared in a daze, wondering how that had come to pass so very quickly. She didn't feel any different. Surely she should feel changed somehow? And then she did feel it... because Lucius's lips had just touched her own. In a kiss so light and sweet it couldn't possible be real.

His mouth was on hers for only a second. It was a perfunctory display, done for their audience and nothing more. Narcissa didn't believe for one moment that Lucius would ever genuinely want to kiss her, but she felt a tug, a glorious warmth spread to the very tips of her fingers and toes nevertheless. And for that tiny spasm of time she had felt like a _real_ bride instead of an actress in play.

Lucius had kept her glued to his side for longer than she had expected after the ceremony was over. Her mother had insisted on a very light open-air buffet, to show off the newly tended (and planted) gardens, followed later by a formal meal, to show off Ravensden's redecorated interior. But although Narcissa was in Lucius's constant presence she did not have an opportunity to speak with him privately.

In a way, she was glad; she had no idea what she would say to Lucius. _Her husband._ The words had strangely little effect upon Narcissa. They hadn't yet been ascribed a tangible meaning. No doubt Lucius would leave soon enough, and be out of her life almost entirely for the next two years. Narcissa couldn't explain why the thought of being left alone, or more particularly - left alone by Lucius - didn't make her feel more cheerful.

However, Narcissa's mind was forced to stop its wandering as it was abruptly recalled to the present when by her father's slightly raised voice. Narcissa sighed; she hadn't even realised he was speaking to Lucius. She seemed to be seeing everything through a thick mist, and frankly she couldn't wait for it to clear!

"You're not taking her anywhere, Malfoy." Orion Black was growling _trying_ to keep his voice low.

"Do be sensible, Mr Black," Lucius drawled calmly. "It was you who decided to invite the entire Wizarding population of the Western hemisphere to this wedding. If you had kept this a low-key affair, as originally planned, we could have avoided it, but surely you understand that Narcissa and I must now go away on honeymoon?"

"You gave me your word, Malfoy." Orion countered in a low, shaking voice.

"I said that I wouldn't touch her until she's out of school." Lucius answered quite reasonably, "I haven't and I won't. Beyond that, our affairs are not your concern."

"She's my daughter!" Mr. Black countered, a twinge of desperation tangible in his voice.

"She's _my _wife." Lucius retorted and then, with an authority that sent a shiver down her spine announced, "We leave for Paris this evening. Please inform your staff to have Mrs. Malfoy's belongings ready. Now, if you will excuse me, I've left our guests too long."

Narcissa slipped into a curtained alcove until Lucius had passed, and then she went toward her father. Her heart was hammering in her chest.

_"We" leave for Paris -_ surely she wasn't included in the 'we'? She paused for a moment in the doorway, staring at her and wondering at his odd behaviour. She had always been close with Orion Black. Acquaintances of her family often remarked on it-and expected that he would treat her with contempt: final evidence of his failure to produce a son and heir- but nothing was further from the truth. She had been her father's pet, coddled and spoiled as much as his means would stretch and, though his behavior of the last week might not have shown it devastated at the prospect of losing his little girl.

Unobserved, Narcissa took note of the deep lines of worry on his face, and the dejected slump of his back. Apparently desperation and adrenaline had carried him through the preceding days, because now that the blow was struck, all of his energy seemed to have left. He was deflated like an empty shell, and Narcissa felt another piece of her already fractured heart begin to break.

"Daddy?" Narcissa called quietly before stepping into the room.

He turned, made a brave effort to smile, and reached for her. "Narcissa," he answered brightly. "There you are. I was hoping I'd get to see you before....well- nevermind that now." He stepped forward and took both of her hands, holding them lightly as if they were about to step into a waltz, and looks his daughter up and down. "You look exquisite, petal," he said with a bittersweet sigh, "Such a little lady. I was proud of you."

"Thank you daddy," she replied, twirling around for him again, and then moving forward to give him a long, crushing hug.

_"Make_ Mr. Malfoy be good to you, Cissa," he said in a hoarse tone, struggling to master his emotions.

"I will daddy," she replied, although she admitted to herself she wasn't sure this was possible- Mr. Malfoy did not strike her as the sort of man who was "made" to do anything.

She lingered in his embrace, not speaking for a while, but finally drew away. She wanted to ask him about Paris, and what Mr. Malfoy had meant, but couldn't work up the courage to admit that she'd been spying. "I suppose I should get back to the party."

"Yes," Mr. Black said, patting out the wrinkles in his robes. He sounded nervous when he continued, "Actually, before you do..." he hesitated, "You need to see your mother for a minute upstairs in your room."

"Can't it wait until after our guests leave, daddy?" she asked, subtly urging him to tell her what else was going on. He didn't mention anything about France, however.

"No, actually. It's...well, your mother will explain." From his looks, Mr. Black was heartily glad of this fact. "There's...er...something that she needs to explain to you."

"Of course, daddy," Narcissa answered warily. "I'll go up now?"

"Good, petal," Orion said, "I'll have the elves find her and send her up. Take care of yourself, petal. I love you."

"I love you too," Narcissa answered, but her blue eyes were narrowing in confusion. Her father was talking as if she was going away- he said that wouldn't happen for years and years! Surely he would have told her if there was something she should know...or was that for her mother to say? "I'll see you later?" she asked with a little bit of panic seeping into her voice.

"Of course, petal," Orion answered. Then he kissed her cheek and sent her on her way.

Narcissa climbed the stairs to her bedchamber in a state of agitation. Why was her father acting so strangely? True he had _technically_ just married off his youngest daughter, but wasn't he the one who had assured her himself that nothing was going to change? She replayed their earlier conversations in her mind, reassuring herself that this was the case- she wasn't meant to move to the Malfoy's until after she was finished with school...Malfoy's mother lived in France. Perhaps they were going to visit her? Narcissa had barely had the chance to see her at the wedding. Yes, that must be it. The term "honeymoon" was just a turn of phase. Lucius was going to take her to see his French relatives, and then he would bring her home. The explanation soothed her nerves. Nevertheless, he heart nearly stopped when she opened the door to her room and found the floor littered with boxes and trunks.

She was still staring at the luggage when the door behind her eased open.

"Narcissa?" It was her mother's voice.

The young bride swung around. "Mama? What- what's going on?" she demanded.

Mrs. Black stepped forward and patted her hand in a soothing gesture. "I needed to speak with you, Narcissa," she said quietly. "There's...been something of a change in plans...

"What kind of change in plans?" Narcissa asked quickly, a clutch of panic seizing her.

"Why don't you come and sit down with me on the bed, Narcissa?" Mrs Black asked. Her voice sounded a little strained. She led her daughter across the room, still holding her hand. "It seems Mr Malfoy wants to take you to Paris," she said, forcing a brittle smile, as if in an attempt to seem pleased about the news.

Narcissa nodded woefully, she had already pieced together as much. "But we won't be gone long?" she asked nervously.

"No," Mrs Black assured her slowly, dragging the tiny word out for as long as possible. "No, you won't be gone long, but- um- well-" she stammered to an inelegant halt, before blurting: "I thought I should prepare you for spending time alone with your new husband."

"But, I've been alone with Mr Malfoy before," Narcissa murmured hesitantly, not quite understanding her mother, and certainly not understanding the way she nearly leapt off the bed looking absolutely scandalised, but when she noticed the look of complete pure innocence on her daughter's face Mrs Black calmed down a fraction, and sat back down on the edge of the bed.

"I meant a more- a more _personal_ kind of alone, Narcissa dear," she said awkwardly. Narcissa frowned, but then her eyebrows raised so high that they were almost lost in her hairline. "Mr Malfoy has promised not to- not to behave inappropriately towards you," Mrs Black  
continued, struggling to find words she deemed suitably inoffensive. "But he is a man, and men you know, are not like us."

Narcissa was nearly the same shade of red as her sister's bridesmaid dress. She was very tempted to blurt out that she _knew_ men were different, the girls at school were hardly coy about such things, but then she would have to explain to her mother how she knew, and Narcissa thought it might be slightly less painful to listen to her mother's little talk.

"You see, men are driven by more- by more primal urges, and once they are in a state of- um, ugh..."

Narcissa quickly decided it would be _more_ painful to listen to her mother's talk.

"Mama," she said softly, "I know what happens between a man and a woman."

"You do?" Mrs Black first looked shocked, and then rather relieved; she didn't for a second image Narcissa had firsthand knowledge. "Well, I must say that's a relief," she almost mustered a smile.  
"Now, when the time comes, try not to be afraid. I'm sure Mr Malfoy _will_ keep his word, you are so young after all, but I-"

"Afraid?" Narcissa whispered with a little start. She hadn't been afraid. She was nervous and more than a little curious, perhaps, but never _afraid_. Everyone she had heard talking about the intimacies of marriage seemed to speak of it as a pleasurable activity.

"It shouldn't hurt too terribly badly, Cissa. Not if you're quite calm and relaxed." Her mother squeezed her hand reassuringly, but then added with a harsh little snort: "I'm sure Mr Malfoy will have plenty of experience and know just what to do." She flushed afterwards, and gave a little cough. "Well, shall we finish packing?"

Narcissa nodded, but her stomach felt like it was somewhere in her feet. Rather than set her mind at ease, as was what she assumed her mother had been trying to do, Mrs Black had only succeeded in working Narcissa up into a state of nervous agitation. It was going to hurt? And from what her mother had said, Lucius was liable to snap and pounce on her at any given second! Well, she simply wouldn't give him the chance, Narcissa swore, she'd make sure she kept him at a safe distance!


	6. Honeymoon

**Note: This chapter is where the rating kicks in. There is some groping and some frustration, please don't read it if you are too young to do so, or if you are offended by such things. (NO underage hanky-panky, don't worry)**

**Chapter 6**

**Honeymoon**

The new Mrs. Malfoy and her mother stayed in her room, bustling with her luggage for as long as they could contrive a reason to stay, but the appearance of Bellatrix, announcing that dinner was ready to be served finally drew them back downstairs.

Mrs. Black departed almost immediately. While stealing a few moments to speak with her youngest daughter she had been shamefully lax in tending to their numerous guests. She set off to make up for this. After Bellatrix went off to look for Rodolphus, the youngest Black was left completely alone.

No, not the youngest Black. Narcissa thought as she stood by the staircase, the youngest Malfoy.

She wandered through the front of the house, taking time to admire the beautiful decorations that her mother had arranged, and to steal a glass of punch. It took a long time to make her way into the supper room. Every few steps, someone new would take her arm, commenting on her lovely dress, telling her she had made a beautiful bride, or inquiring, as subtly as they could manage, what she would be doing in nine months. Narcissa answered them as gracefully as she could, but was relieved when she finally reached the main hall and made her way to the head of the table.

Lucius hadn't sat down yet. He was standing in one of the corners, speaking to his mother while his father and the tarty redhead old Mr. Malfoy had brought as his guest lingered at his side. Narcissa was struck by the similarities between Evangaline Malfoy and her son. Both had long, silky white hair and cool grey eyes. Looking intently at their faces, she understood at last the reason why the older woman's smirk had seemed so familiar- it was the same look she had seen on Lucius's face.

Narcissa had anticipated that the appearance of both Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy at the same event would be uncomfortable, but she was confused by what she saw. Rather than appearing angry or unnerved by his wife's appearance, Julius Malfoy was doing everything in his power to catch her attention and to inch closer to where she was standing by their son. Meanwhile, the redhead was annoyed.

"Ah, Narcissa!" Evangaline noticed the bride's arrival first. She broke her attention away from her son and extended an arm. "There you are darling. We thought you'd run off."

"No," Narcissa answered quietly, trying to avoid Lucius's gaze. She could feel his eyes on her skin, and she shivered to think of what was probably running through his head, "primal urges" indeed!

"You look beautiful, Narcissa," Julius Malfoy said- the first civil utterance Narcissa could recall his making in her presence. "Doesn't she look beautiful, Eva?"

"Exquisite," Mrs. Malfoy- whom Narcissa could never imagine referring to by a nickname- replied and turned a cool gaze upon her husband and his escort. "I'm hardly surprised. You picked her out, after all, Julius- and you've always shown exceptional taste when it comes to picking out little girls."

Narcissa shifted uneasily. Julius hadn't exactly been the one to, "pick her out", but she didn't think it would be wise to insert herself into a family argument. She merely voiced a quiet, "Thank you" and turned to take her seat.

Almost immediately, she sensed Lucius behind her. He pulled out her chair, letting her sink onto it before pushing it back to the table.

"Thank you," she said again, and then studiously ignored him as he took the place by her side.

"Is something wrong?" Lucius frowned at her.

Narcissa blinked innocently, "Should there be?"

"No, I…" he sighed, "Nothing. You seem out of sorts."

"Shouldn't I be?" Narcissa snapped. Considering everything that she had been through that day- everything she still might yet endure that night- it was audacious to even imply that this ill temper was a fault.

Lucius instantly stiffened. Any warmth or concern that had been in his features faded. "I thought that brides were supposed to be happy on their wedding day," he retorted coolly.

"I thought that brides…" Narcissa started to reply hotly, but bit her tongue. "Nevermind."

The rest of the meal passed in tense silence. Like the wedding, it seemed to race past in a blur. There was dinner, then toasts, and finally Narcissa and Lucius went to cut their cake, feeding each other tiny, tidy bites and ignoring the bawdy shouts from her horrid cousins to smear the confection in each other's face.

After the cake, Narcissa shared a dance with her father, then one with Lucius, and finally with Mr. Malfoy. She was going to beg a seat and another glass of wine when Lucius intercepted her at the edge of the floor. "Take a walk with me, Narcissa," he commanded, "There's something I want to talk to you about."

Narcissa wasn't sure how many more "private conversations" she could stand that afternoon, but she couldn't very well disobey. Grudgingly, she followed her new husband out into the gardens.

"How do you feel?" he asked when they had finally walked far enough away from the house to be alone.

"Tired," she answered truthfully, but swallowed the words "angry" and "frightened" which also sprang to her tongue.

Lucius laughed, "I can't blame you…but you can wait a little bit longer before bed?"

Narcissa did not take it as a good sign that Lucius was mentioning bed.

"Yes, though I expect I will sleep very well tonight," She said pointedly.

Lucius gave her an odd look, but continued, "What I mean is- it might be a little longer before you're able to rest. I have a surprise for you."

"Oh, what is that?" Narcissa asked, already knowing what he was going to say.

"I'm going to take you on a little trip," He announced and waited for her reaction. Receiving none, he pressed on, "Have you ever been to Paris, Narcissa?"

"Of course I've been to Paris!" she answered haughtily. She was the blue-blooded aristocrat, after all!

"Oh," he said, sounding faintly disappointed, "Well, we're going to go again. I thought it might be a nice opportunity for us to spend some time alone together," he explained, unwittingly copying her mother's words.

The similarity was not lost on Narcissa, "We're alone right now," she pointed out.

"This isn't what I mean," Lucius said with growing annoyance.

"What do you mean?" Narcissa asked sweetly, daring him to say it.

"I mean-" he started hotly, but was interrupted when his mother suddenly appeared through a break in the shrubbery. "Ah, Lucius- Narcissa. I wanted to tell you. Your portkey is almost ready."

He sighed, "Thank you mother. I was just telling Narcissa about her surprise."

"Oh…and did she like it?" Evangaline looked at her new daughter-in-law, her expression looking as though she could guess the answer.

"Of course," Narcissa lied.

Recognizing that there was no real way to avoid her fate, Narcissa allowed herself to be herded back into the wedding. She tossed her bouquet (which, predictably, Bellatrix caught), changed into soft blue travelling robes and met Lucius again in the parlour.

"Owl to me if you need anything, petal. Anything," Orion Black said emphatically as she placed her gloved hand on the pretty silver mirror that would port the new Malfoys to France.

Mrs. Black was crying too hard to say goodbye and offered a watery hug instead. When she finally drew away, Lucius clasped Narcissa's hand, and then took out his wand.

He tapped the portkey once. Then, with the sensation of a hook catching around her navel and yanking her through space, Narcissa was drawn into the spell. In spite of her worries, she was grateful for Lucius's fingers curled around her own. It was a long trip to France, and she got portsick quite easily.

Finally, just as nausea was about to overwhelm her, her feet made contact with a very deep plush rug. Feeling woozy, Narcissa stumbled as she met the ground, but Lucius's arms were around her in an instant, once again enveloping her in his masculine strength and heat.

Exhausted, disoriented, and feeling slightly ill, it was all too tempting to stay exactly where she was- her head resting on his chest, and her body held aloft by his powerful arms. She felt his breath on her neck as he leaned forward, "Narcissa are you feeling okay?"

She mumbled "yes" and nodded her head. Her stomach was starting to settle. It usually only took a moment to feel better.

"Perhaps I should get you to bed."

That was the wrong thing to say.

Like a switch had been flipped, the easy languor left Narcissa's body. She stiffened and leapt out of his arms- careening into the registration desk of the very posh hotel where they had reappeared.

Narcissa winced as an expensive-looking vase wobbled and then crashed to the floor. The wizard behind the desk arched a brow. "Monsieur and Madame Malfoy, I presume," he said in thickly accented English.

Lucius nodded, sighing.

"Lune de miel," the wizard said dryly, "You have that look."

It was only a few moments before Lucius and Narcissa were checked in. Their bags had been sent ahead, and were waiting for them in their room. "Not a suite?" Narcissa asked, surprised. After a week filled with extravagances, she had half-expected whomever booked the lodgings to reserve a floor, or perhaps the entire hotel.

"Oui, seulement une chambre," The wizard said, dropping briefly back into French as his annoyance grew, "We find that newlyweds don't usually require much space."

Narcissa felt a shiver of misgiving as she followed her husband to their chamber. As promised, it was a single room, though appointed with every luxury they could desire.

The focal point, of course, was a huge, silk-covered four-poster swathed with gauzy netting and silk. There wasn't any sofa, but two comfortable looking chairs were placed before a cheerfully burning fire. There was a writing desk, an armoire and a dresser. A pair of frenchdoors led to a large balcony and through another opening was an enormous bathroom.

Narcissa hadn't seen a larger tub since the last time she had sneaked into the prefect's bathroom at Hogwarts. It was surrounded by a marble ledge and faced a huge window which, though undoubtably charmed against anyone looking in, displayed a glittering panorama of the Parisian  
cityscape.

"Oh!" she exclaimed as she drank it all in. She hadn't lied earlier. She'd been to Paris before a dozen times, but it was never like this. She'd always being herded from house to house of her stuffy relatives, or accompanying her mother to fittings for gowns that her family really couldn't afford. She'd never seen the city in style.

"Do you like it?" Lucius asked, more eager than he cared to admit to hear just one word of approval to fall from her lips.

He couldn't understand her metamorphosis. He didn't expect her to act like a typical bride by any means, but Lucius had dared to hope that she might show a _little_ warmth towards him, and quite frankly he _expected_ a certain degree of civility. His bride had seemed perfectly amiable before the wedding. For his sake, he hoped Orion Black wasn't craftier than he had given him credit for – he hoped Narcissa's icy, aloofness was just a result of overtiredness and stress, and not the true character of his new wife.

"Narcissa?" Lucius pressed, when she stayed silent. "I am now permitted to call you Narcissa, aren't I?" he checked churlishly, despite the fact he had been doing so all afternoon. His voice was dripping with sarcasm. If Narcissa wanted to play games, then so be it.

"Of course," she mumbled. "And, it is a very nice room," she added softly.

Lucius looked around the lavish surroundings, which were impressive even by Malfoy standards. His lip curled in a sneer as he hissed the little word 'nice' angrily beneath his breath. If Narcissa heard him she didn't let it show. She just stood like a little statue, her eyes downcast and her mouth pinched in a small thing line as if she was waiting for something unpleasant to occur- a dental appointment, or a potions exam, Lucius wasn't sure that he had ever felt so insulted before in his life. He rolled his eyes irritably and loosened his cravat. He needed a drink. Fast.

Lucius poured himself a glass of Scotch, then offered Narcissa anything she wanted. He was unsurprised when she politely refused. Rebuffed again, he sat down in one of the fireside chairs and drank half the contents of the glass in one quick gulp. He knew that he should really take the situation in hand before he lost his tempter. He didn't want to inflict that on Narcissa only a few hours into their marriage.

He glanced across the room at his young wife. She was still hovering over by the door. "Are you planning on staying there all night?" he drawled coldly. It was the calmest response to her provocation that he could manage.

"Perhaps," came her tart, childish reply.

Lucius was about to snarl at her when he saw her bite her lip. He prepared to launch into a tirade against this and each of her other quirky un-Malfoy-esque habits when she did it again, and it finally struck him. She was nervous – in fact, she seemed poised to have a fully-fledged panic attack if he could judge by the way that she was chewing her bottom lip!

He leant back in his chair and let the majority of his anger slip away. He would have to find a way to set her at ease, although, that was probably easier said than done; he wasn't entirely sure what had her so rattled and he doubted she was about to tell him.

"Come and sit down, Narcissa," He said, his voice was a good deal softer than it had been before. She looked like she wanted to resist his invitation, but couldn't find a plausible excuse to use, and so was forced to join him. "You seem a little tense," he murmured, knowing that the words would surely only make her tenser, but they were the only thing that he could think of to say. He watched as she visibly stiffened. "Perhaps you'll feel better after a good nights sleep?" he sighed, deciding he wasn't about to get anywhere fast.

"Pardon?" Narcissa gasped. Lucius frowned at her, swirling the remains of his Scotch around the glass.

"Go to bed. We'll talk in the morning," Narcissa looked from Lucius to the bed and back to Lucius again.

"And you'll sleep…?"

"Here," he snorted, finishing off the glass, "or the bath looked rather comfy," he drawled.

..ooOOoo..

He hadn't actually been serious- though Narcissa obviously did not share his sense of humor! Cursing under his breath, Lucius tossed to his side in the porcelain tub, making a futile attempt to get comfortable while he tried to unravel his new wife's mind. He thought that he understood women. He'd prided himself on it- but Narcissa Malfoy was an absolute mystery.

Lucius had finally convinced her that it was time to sleep, waited as she selected a nightgown (a long, prudish garment no doubt meant to remind him of the promise he had made to Orion Black), and then met her stare when she shot him a disapproving glance.

"Would you mind Mr. Malfoy?" she said, nodding her head toward the bathroom. "I'm going to change my robes."

Of course, he hadn't intended to stay and watch her change. Nevertheless, it was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that yes he did mind, and that she certainly didn't have anything that he hadn't seen before - or, at any rate, that he wouldn't see again on a minimum of a thrice weekly basis beginning the day she turned eighteen- but he decided that it was better to indulge her for the time being.

"I'll go wait in the bath," he announced, to her palpable relief. He meant it as a favour- but his only reward was a locking charm- and he had left his wand outside! Narcissa hadn't even allowed him pillows. After nearly an hour of waiting to be released, he was reduced to wadding up towels to cushion while he slept his wedding night away in the tub.

The little chit had better be worth it! Lucius thought furiously as he stared out into the Parisian cityscape. From the window, he could make out the silhouette of the Eiffel Tower rising above the hip-roofed buildings and, further in the distance, see the lights of La Defense. It was a beautiful view- a view meant to be shared, though that seemed very unlikely to occur.

The source of Narcissa's worries was rapidly becoming clear to him. Either she hadn't been informed of his vow to her father, or she didn't trust him to honour it. The first possibility was vexing, and the second insulting. Either way, she was wrong. Just because she looked good enough to eat in the divine little blue silk robes and jacket she had been wearing, didn't mean that he was going to take a bite. He was a man, not an animal- perfectly capable of controlling his lust.

Did he lust for her?

It was an uncomfortable question, but one that needed to be confronted. He liked to think that he was incapable of nurturing an attraction for a girl who wasn't even out of school- even if she did look years older than she actually was- but there was no denying that he felt something different, and far more satisfying, for Narcissa than he had her sister. Andromeda was physically perfect. Already a full-fledged woman, she had curves that engorgement charms couldn't match, mahogany ringlets, and eyes like green glass. She was flawless- and yet she had failed to capture his interest. He had imagined that it wouldn't be too hard to perform his duties to beget an heir. She was a beautiful woman, and he was a healthy male, but he'd always imagined their baby and not the process of making it happen. Whereas, with Narcissa…he turned over again, readjusting the towel behind his neck…with Narcissa, he wouldn't help and wonder what it would be like in the not too distant future when he finally made him her own.

She was a total innocent. He could tell from her kisses that she was completely untrained and untouched. The prospect of initiating her to womanhood was both thrilling and daunting. It was in turns pleasing and then torturous that he had so long to plot the seduction out. He would take her very slowly, kissing and testing every inch of skin on her lovely little body before finally making her his. He would show her so many kinds of pleasure…

"Lucius?"

Narcissa's voice called through the doorway. Overhead, the picture of the mermaid splashed off of her rock and disappeared, just as the door swung open.

"You weren't in the common room," she said, putting her satchel of books into the floor and stepping toward the tub. "Don't you remember? You're meant to help me study for my test."

"Your test?" She was right. He had forgotten. He had been so busy with Quidditch practice- or was it a business deal at Gringotts? He didn't remember- that it had completely slipped his mind.

"Kissing!" she reminded him. "Professor Cupid is going to be terribly angry. I couldn't bear to fail."

"You won't fail," he assured her. He turned off one of the taps- the one pouring cotton-candy scented pink bubbles into the tub, and then got out, lapping up the admiring way that she watched the water slid off of his leanly muscled frame.

"Lucius! You're naked!" she said in a frightened little whisper.

"Yes," he replied, and he would have reached for a towel, but didn't tie it around his waist. "You need to study kissing?"

She nodded. "I need you to kiss me."

"Where?"

She giggled nervously, "On the lips," she finally announced.

"But Narcissa, that lacks imagination," he purred back. "There are so many nice places to kiss."

She was wearing her whole uniform: robes, jumper, shirt, skirt, tie, knee-socks…He quickly divested her of the first two, and then rooted the tail of her oxford out of her skirt. Her breath puffed against his hair as he bent forward to kiss her neck. At the same time, he let his palms slide under the top.

He teased her skin, and then he bowed his head again, pushing the fabric away and covering it with his mouth.

"Lucius!" She groaned his name, grinding her hips against him again and again until his entire body was aflame.

He smiled at the sound, and then said strangely, "I don't think the elves needed teatowels."

Narcissa nodded as if she understood.

"Lucius, your mother wants baked beans at breakfast. Tell her that she can't have any."

"I will," Lucius promised, wondering when the Slytherin common room had gotten so dirty. Now they were standing there, naked, watching the other students play chess.

"Lucius? Lucius Malfoy?" one had asked .

"Lucius?" This time it was his father's voice, and he turned away, hoping to avoid it.

"Lucius?" That voice was very near.

"Lucius!" The voice was louder.

"Lucius you have to let me in."

He awoke with a start, flushing instantly as he recalled his dream. The real Narcissa was pounding on the door. "Lucius! Let me in! I need to go!"

It was already morning.

Lucius sat up in the tub, blinking and rubbing his eyes. Sunlight was streaming through the window. He must have fallen asleep after all- but it had not been an easy night. He could tell that his hair was wild, and he had a terrible crick in his neck. Worst of all, his body was still on fire.

"Lucius. I really need the lavatory!" Narcissa called through the wooden barrier. "Please let me in!"

"You set the lock!" he growled back tersely.

"Oh…did I?"

There was a moment of silence, and then a muttered incantation. Finally the door finally swung free. Narcissa rushed inside. She opened her mouth to speak, but Lucius had already stalked past her, keeping the door between them, and then his back to her, in an attempt to conceal lingering effects of his desire.

"Lucius?" Narcissa murmured timidly, loitering in the doorway.

"I thought you needed to use the bathroom?" Lucius snarled, so harshly that Narcissa instantly vanished with a little gasp of fright.

He waited until the door was shut (and relocked!) before slumping in a chair, trying desperately to will away the fierce throbbing that filled his body.

Narcissa's evident repulsion of him did go a little way to dent his ego and consequently dampen his lust. She was young. She probably didn't understand what desire was yet, he thought more charitably, and then sighed heavily. He was lusting after a child! Something he had _never_ thought to do, but this realisation did at least kill off the remnants of his need. He would at least be able to walk across the room, (albeit with his hands jammed firmly in his pockets,) without his condition being too obvious now.

Lucius listened as Narcissa unlocked the bathroom door, made a grab for the complimentary copy of the previous days newspaper, and then arranging it carefully over his lap. He made a show of reading it intently when his wife cautiously re-entered the room.

"You slept well?" he sneered, unable to hold his tongue, unwilling to even look at her.

"Yes, thank you," she replied quietly. "The bed was very comfortable."

Lucius's head snapped up, was she goading him deliberately? Judging from the sad look in her eyes he didn't think so. He shook his head wearily. He would find some way to cheer her up; he couldn't stand seeing her so unhappy, but he was in no state to try and soothe away her fears at present.

"I'm going to take a bath," a cold bath, he amended silently, "unless you've now commandeered that room too?" He stood, hands in his pockets, and glared at her.

Narcissa blushed and shook her head meekly, watching Lucius march into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him. Once she could hear the steady sound of running water Narcissa sat down on the edge of bed. She had succeeded wonderfully in keeping Lucius at arms length, she reflected, but she had been rather less than tactful in doing so.

She hadn't meant to make him mad. Her stomach turned over as she thought of the contempt in his eyes- he had barely been able to look at her! He had also seemed almost in pain. Narcissa cringed a little as she thought about the night he must have spent in the bathtub. She should have at least given him a few pillows and a blanket. Her cheeks coloured deeper. She was behaving like a child. She wouldn't be able to stop Lucius from- from doing whatever it was that he wanted to do to her forever, but maybe she could keep him at bay until she was a little more prepared?

Narcissa must have been sat thinking for longer than she'd imagined, because the bathroom door reopened and Lucius strolled out – wrapped in nothing more than a towel.

"Lucius!" she squealed, a wave of panic washing over her. "You're naked!" And dripping wet, she noted, a vague curiosity tugging at her senses. Lucius simply raised one scathing eyebrow and indicated to the towel around his waist. "Well, almost," Narcissa muttered the correction, unable to peel her eyes away from the little droplets of water that were trickling down the well defined muscles of his chest.

"Well if you find it so repulsive, stop staring," he suggested with a sneer, picking up one of the suitcases and tossing it onto the bed. Her innocent gaze was threatening to undo the good work of his freezing bath. He was an idiot for forgetting to pick up a clean set of clothes!

"I don't- I don't find you repulsive," Narcissa whispered truthfully, finally managing to look away from her husband as he began search for some fresh robes.

Despite her very first assessment of Lucius, she was beginning to see him in a very different light, and she couldn't help but wonder how he thought any women could possibly find him repulsive. Of course, Narcissa thought woefully, any other woman probably would not have forced him to spend the night- his _wedding night_ no less- locked in a bathroom!

She sighed heavily, and that, coupled with her shaky confession meant that Lucius's eyes were now watching her. She could feel them, focused upon her with an unnerving intensity.

"Narcissa," he began gently.

"Yes, Lucius?" She still didn't meet his eyes, but she turned her face toward him so that he could see that she was listening.

He sighed heavily and sat on the corner of the bed, his fresh robes draped across his legs while the rest of him remained gloriously unclothed.

"I think that we need to talk."

"Oh?" she muttered and glanced down at her hands. They were twisting nervously in the robes that she was wearing, leaving tiny creases in the silk.

"Yes. Now that we are married…" he watched her freeze over automatically and then he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to fight down the frustration that rose in response. "Now that we are married…" he began again carefully, "There are some matters which should be made clear between us."

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy," she answered meekly. "Of course."

"You understand that you will be expected to bear my child."

There. He had said it. The uncomfortable topic that had hung between them for the past day was finally in the open. As he anticipated, Narcissa paled further, but he did not stop speaking. "I understand," he continued gently, "that you are still a very young girl who is hardly ready to…make that a possibility."

At last he saw a softening of her expression.

"Narcissa, I promised your father that I wasn't going to force you into anything before you were ready." He dared to inch a little closer, moving to the chair beside her. "And if a promise to your father isn't good enough- I'm making that same promise to you. Let's just…not think about this," he gestured toward the bed, "Until you're a little older- will that make you less frightened?"

The look of patent relief on her face spoke where her voice did not. Her body slumped as its tension melted away. "I'm…I'm very sorry, Mr. Malfoy!" she blurted, so sincerely that he almost laughed. He realized, however, that this would ruin the effect of his gentlemanlike declaration.

Likewise, he didn't think it would do to tell her that he was very sorry too- albeit for different reasons! Instead, he stood. "Well, I'm glad that we have that settled," he stated sincerely.

Narcissa bobbed her chin in agreement.

"I do want to be your friend, Narcissa," he said, turning toward the bathroom where he could change his clothes.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy. I want that too."

He sighed and shook his head, "There is something that you could do for me, however?"

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" This time, the flash of worry in her face was very brief. She was starting to trust him- although he could anticipate already that it would be a slow process.

"Call me Lucius," he commanded firmly, but added: "Please, Narcissa?"

"Yes…Lucius," she answered. At last, he allowed himself a little smile.

"I'm going to finish getting ready. Why don't you order breakfast, and then we'll go out for a while?"

Narcissa did as she was told, ordering up a pot of tea, and a tray of fruit and warm croissants. After breakfast, they went out to see the city.

The hotel was located in the Latin Quarter, near Notre Dame, and they visited there first, before descending into the catacombs that housed the gateway to wizarding Paris.

Narcissa had been shopping in France before, but never with such reckless abandon as with Malfoy. She had only to comment that something was pretty before an order was given that it should be wrapped and returned to their hotel.

"Lucius! You have to stop!" she exclaimed after he had ordered a particularly fine, and outrageously expensive charmed mirror for his bride.

"Why?" he laughed. He enjoyed spoiling her. After the rocky start they had experienced, it was an exquisite pleasure to see her laugh.

"We'll spend all your money!" she answered in a scandalized whisper.

Lucius snorted in amusement, "Oh, you don't need to worry about that!"

"Well, perhaps not." Narcissa couldn't help but smile. She knew that she would very soon get very used to not having to look at the price tags of anything, to simply knowing that everything she wanted was obtainable...but abruptly that smile faded. Evangaline Malfoy's words came back sharply to haunt her: Lucius will give you anything you ask for- _except_ his heart. "All the same…" she murmured softly. It was excessive. After all, it wasn't as if Lucius was a _real_ newlywed intent on cosseting his bride. He was simply… trying to buy her good favour? If that was the case, (and Narcissa wasn't wholly sure that it was; he had seemed so genuine when asking for her friendship) she didn't understand why he was bothering. She belonged to him now after all.

"All the same, what?" Lucius chuckled, charmed by her resistance to being spoilt. "You really needn't worry about bankrupting me, Narcissa. I promise"

"No, I know," she conceded. "It's not that. It's just…just that it's me."

"You?"

Narcissa nodded, and then blurted out: "You already paid so much- _too much_ thanks to my parents- for the wedding." She took a breath, "And now there's this trip, and all the presents, and I'm… well, I'm not really worth it, Lucius," she finished quietly. She was nothing more than a second-rate child-bride after all. Sighing, Narcissa stared at the ground for a moment before risking a glance at Lucius's face. She frowned, "Why are you smiling?"

"Oh, I think you are," he laughed, ignoring the question.

"Oh, but you're wrong!" she insisted, turning away so that he couldn't see the delighted pinkness that blossomed on her skin. Why was it that her steps suddenly felt so light? She wasn't certain that she wanted to know.

Lucius's face was suddenly stern. "I assure you, Narcissa, that I am never wrong," he said so severely that she froze, but her body melted again when his expression abruptly changed. He laughed at her again. "In any event, permit me my illusion?" he asked, taking her arm to lead her across a busy street to the exit from Rue Magique and back to Muggle Paris.

As a rule, Malfoy didn't like to mingle with non-magical folk, but he couldn't resist showing Narcissa the remarkable views from the Eiffle Tower and from Sacre Coeur. He loved watching her face as she took in each new experience. Although he was growing more worried than ever that it would be far too easy to grow quite attached to his little wife, he pushed the worries aside. They would only be together for a week, after all. When their honeymoon ended she would return to Cornwall. He would return to Wiltshire, and he doubted that he would see her more than once a year until she was out of school. Besides, he was laying a foundation for the future. He didn't want to share a child with a woman who despised him, did he? He had already seen from his parents' example how untenable such a situation would be. They were going to be friends...it was unusual for Lucius, but he rather liked the idea.

It was nearly midnight when they returned to their room at the hotel. Narcissa went into the bathroom to change, and undo her hair while Lucius loitered by the bed, gathering pillows, blankets, and his wand to hopefully ensure a more satisfactory night of sleep.

Narcissa finally emerged from the bath clad in a modest but pretty gown and matching dressing gown of pale pink silk.

"Whatever are you doing?" she asked, frowning at the pillows.

"Getting ready for bed," he replied, trying to sound happy about it.

"Oh, Mr. Mal- Lucius...you aren't going to sleep in the bathtub again?"

He arched a brow. "There doesn't seem to be another option besides the floor."

Narcissa flushed prettily. "Oh...I thought...that is...you could...now that we have an understanding...I don't...I suppose I don't mind if you stay in the bed?" she managed with difficulty.

Lucius took a steadying breath, barely knowing how to respond. Of course it was tempting- it would be heaven to spend the night on a comfortable mattress underneath a snug down comforter- but did he trust himself? Did Narcissa trust him enough?

"I could," he said slowly, "If it wouldn't make you uncomfortable."

"No," Narcissa answered tentatively, "You...you could stay on your side."

"Of course," he assured her.

"Well, it's settled then?" Narcissa's fabulous blue eyes darted away, and she hovered near the edge of the mattress while Lucius replaced the pillows and then went into the other room to change. When he re-emerged, clad in a pair of dark silk pajama pants, she was already nestled beneath the blankets. She had tucked one of them around her body into a snug cocoon, completely foreclosing the possibility of a canoodle.

Vaguely disappointed, Lucius extinguished the lights, and then climbed into bed beside her. It felt strange to be sleeping in a bed with another person. Of course Lucius had spent the night with women before, but this was somehow different. He had a very heavy sense of the future- that this was the first night of many- saturating the experience with a sense of importance.

"Goodnight, Lucius," Narcissa whispered in a quiet, yawning voice.

He liked the sound. He liked how, wrapped in her compact bundle, Narcissa curled up on her side. He liked how her voice came in slow, gentle puffs as she fell swiftly and silently asleep.

He could get used to this.

**TO BE CONTINUED**

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	7. Transition

**Chapter Seven  
****Transition**

The rest of the week passed in pleasant companionship, so that Narcissa was disappointed when it was time to return to home.

"When will I see you again, Lucius?" she asked as they awaited their portkeys- hers to Ravensden Hall, and his to carry him back to Wiltshire.

"Christmas time, I suppose," he said in a distant tone, trying not to sound affected as he planted a feathery good-bye kiss on her cheek and handed her the envelope that would carry her home. "I could meet you in Hogsmeade for your birthday, if you would like."

"Could you?" Narcissa asked breathlessly. Her eyes, which had been inexplicably downcast, brightened considerably.

Lucius looked mildly surprised by her enthusiasm, and fought off the urge to smile. It would never do for her to think that he would answer her every beck and call. Still, he couldn't deny- to himself at least- that he thoroughly enjoyed the burst of sunshine that broke across her pretty face.

"That is…only if you're not busy," Narcissa continued quickly. She had seemed to sense his surprise and considered herself to have over stepped some unwritten mark. "I wouldn't want to be a bother. I'm sure Christmas will do just as well," she assured him, as she forced her face to assume a smile she did not feel.

Christmas was months and months away! She had only known Lucius, if it could really be called that, for all of a week, but the thought of being separated from him for such a very long time was doing strange things to her heart.

"Narcissa, I wouldn't have offered to come if I thought it would prove to be a problem," Lucius declared her carelessly. "I'm sure I can spare my wife an afternoon on her birthday." He gave her an almost paternal pat on the hand.

Narcissa felt deflated. Wasn't he even a little sorry to see her go? She supposed that she lacked his charisma- because he was certainly charismatic when he chose to be. Perhaps, if only she had been given a little longer, been a little older, she would have been able to have had as large an impact on his life as he was proving to have on hers?

Narcissa sighed sadly; she rather thought that Lucius would get back to his home and forget she even existed. She would be filed away neatly under 'w' for 'wife' and only brought out only for special occasions, her birthday (just about) being one of them apparently.

"May I write to you?" she asked suddenly, unaware of even having thought the question, let alone having instructed her tongue to form it. Narcissa wanted the ground to open up and swallow her. Lucius looked so taken aback that he was actually momentary speechless.

"Your… father might not like that," he said at length. Quite sure Orion Black wouldn't like it – the arrangement had been that Lucius would leave Narcissa well alone until she left Hogwarts. He might be legally her husband, but he was not yet to have any real role in her life. And yet… what could a few letters hurt? "But-"

"Oh," Narcissa said, at precisely the same moment Lucius began to make his counterclaim. "No, of course. I'm sorry. It was a silly thing to ask."

"No it-" Lucius began hurriedly, but Narcissa was already preparing to use her portkey. Escape - her key objective.

"I'll see you in October," she said brightly, too brightly, attempting everything she could think of to prevent him from speaking and proving again what a foolish little girl she really was. She even stood on tiptoes and brushed a kiss against his cheek before clasping her portkey and vanishing.

Lucius stared, slightly dazed, at the spot his wife had been standing in just a moment beforehand. His head began to throb painfully. That was certainly not how he had wanted the week to end!

..ooOOoo..

It was less than two months after cousin Lyra's fateful wedding when Narcissa finally went to London to catch the train for school, but for all the changes that had happened in her life, it might as well have been twenty years.

She was Lucius Malfoy's wife. At least, that was what the tapestry proclaimed. Downstairs, in the shining and freshly papered entry hall, a strand of golden thread linked his name to her own, glittering proudly next to a scorched patch that all of Orion and Aunt Black's scourgifying charms couldn't wash away. If not for this tangible evidence, and the heavy diamond- Andromeda's diamond- settled on her left hand, she might have wondered if it was all a dream.

Her daily life was just as it ever was, precisely as Lucius and her father had promised, and in spite of how she had hoped this would be. Still, she couldn't help feeling a little…what? Narcissa asked herself. Disappointed? Surprised? Cheated felt closest to the truth. She hadn't heard a word from Lucius since her departure from Paris. Julius Malfoy had written to her father to protest the addition of a Japanese rock garden to the formal lawns ("Well, I suppose they think they have us now, don't they?" her father had remarked bitterly at dinner that night) and to detail Narcissa's allowance for the coming year ("A pittance!" Mrs. Black had scoffed, though it was easily fifty times what Narcissa had been allowed before). Her Aethonon was returned as soon as the stables were ready without so much as a note. Narcissa didn't even know if she could expect Lucius for her birthday or not.

Nevertheless, in spite of how wondering made each day stretch out like an eternity, 1st September finally arrived. She had been in London for the better part of the week, spending some of the "pittance" that the Malfoys had afforded her on schoolbooks, new uniforms, and robes. The Malfoys had covered her tuition for the year as well and, rather than saving the money, her father and mother presented her with a new, dragonskin and cypress travelling trunk.

Narcissa went to the station alone, no longer needing or desiring her mother and father to drop her at the train. She made it to platform 9 ¾ with plenty of time to spare, and found a compartment near the front where she settled in with a novel she had taken from the library at home.

Her solitude was short-lived, however. It was only a few minutes before a few of the other sixth year Slytherin girls hurried into her compartment and settled onto the bench beside her.

"Narcissa Black!" Olivia Ogrevy exclaimed, bursting noisily through the wood and glass door.

A second girl, Violet Sharp, stumbled in after her. "Narcissa Malfoy, you mean!"

Narcissa had always numbered the pair of them among her "friends"- though for Narcissa, that status had never held a particularly lofty meaning. It meant that she shared a dormitory with them at school, suffered their company at meals, and occasionally went off with them to a Quidditch match or into town. The trio had been inseparable as little girls, but distance had formed with time- in spite of how clearly Olivia and Violet were trying to insinuate themselves to her now.

She tried to feign attention in her book as Olivia elbowed close. "Well?" the girl asked. "How was it?"

Narcissa looked up, arching a perfect brow. "It?" she inquired.

"Paris!" Olivia said with exasperation.

"MALFOY!" Violet exclaimed, then the pair of them dissolved into twittering giggles that made Narcissa's cheeks begin to flush.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," she said haughtily and turned a page of her novel.

Olivia and Violet exchanged a disbelieving look. "You don't want to tell, you mean," Miss Ogrevy snapped in annoyance. "That's not fair, Cissa."

"Yeah!" Violet, a pug-faced, dark-haired girl said squirming closer. "We want to hear everything!"

"Yes. Everything." Olivia emphasized, then the pair of them started laughing again.

Narcissa closed her book in disgust. "There really isn't anything to tell!" she insisted, but it was clear that they did not believe her.

"Was it wonderful, Narcissa?" Violet asked dreamily. "Was it embarrassing?"

"Well, you should know," the young Mrs. Malfoy retorted harshly. Charles Parkinson, Violet's (now ex) boyfriend had put it all over school that he'd had her in a broom closet the winter before- and she'd done nothing to contradict the rumours until after she'd been dumped.

"It must have been wonderful," Olivia said in a tone of great authority. "We've seen him, after all." At this, both of them gave a longing sigh.

Narcissa's first instinct was to frown- entirely displeased that they would carry on so about her husband. Then she went distracted as her mind cast back to the first morning in Paris- to the water droplets clinging to Lucius's chest when he had walked out of the bath clad only in a towel…

She wasn't aware that she was staring until Olivia and Violet started laughing again. She turned her eyes skyward, and muttered a prayer that they would find something else to talk about. Her wish was granted a moment later.

"Oi! Look!" Violet said in a breathy whisper. All three of the girls fell silent as Byron McKeenon, Ravenclaw Keeper, walked past their coach.

He was a seventh year now, a year ahead of the girls. Tall, dark blue eyed and perfectly muscled- he'd been sending the trio swoony since second year. Narcissa thought her heart would stop when he paused outside their door.

"Hullo Narcissa," he said in a casual voice, poking his head inside the compartment. "You're looking well this year," he continued shyly. "Have a good summer?"

She didn't get a chance to answer. "'Of course she had a good summer, are you thick?" Olivia snapped.

When Byron's face betrayed confusion, Violet happily supplied the rest. "She got married three weeks ago, didn't you hear? She's Narcissa Malfoy now."

He hadn't heard.

Narcissa felt her heart fall to her feet as she watched the emotions scroll across his impossibly handsome face: shock, disappointment, and then a flicker of disgust. "Oh," he puffed, clearly put out. "I hadn't. Congratulations." Then he left without saying goodbye.

Violet sighed wistfully. "I think he's sweet on you Cissa," she supplied unhelpfully. "But it's too late now."

"Maybe he'll fancy you now, Vy?" Olivia countered, cackling gleefully, not seeing the sudden look of desolation on Narcissa's face.

Narcissa felt…hollow. She didn't think that she had faced before the enormity of what had happened- the cataclysmic change. She had waited for Byron McKeenon to notice her for FOUR years. Now that he finally did, it was too late!

She would never go on a Hogsmeade visit with anyone else. Narcissa felt a pang at the realization. She would never sneak off to the Astronomy tower, or pass notes in class ever again. Her life, as she had known it, was over.

"You still fancy Charlie, don't you?" Olivia continued teasing Violet mercilessly. Ordinarily Narcissa would have put a stop to it, if only to have some peace, but she was too focused on herself. The sense of loss was suddenly overwhelming. It shouldn't really matter that she couldn't have Byron. Lucius did just as well…only she didn't have Lucius either. Olivia and Violet expected that Lucius had claimed his marital rights. Narcissa had expected him to try- only he hadn't. He didn't seem to really want her at all.

The rest of the train ride crawled past. It seemed like days later when they finally reached the castle. Then the Sorting feast lingered, and finally ended with Narcissa retiring to her dorm. She wanted peace and solitude, but it was not easy to come by. Her housemates spent hours sorting through the wonderful new clothes and baubles packed inside her trunk, and then wheedling her for information they assumed that she was too coy to provide. It was after midnight when they finally went to bed, but Narcissa remained awake. Surrounded by girls she had known almost half her life, she had never felt so alone. She wished Lucius was there. Did he even still remember that she existed?

..ooOOoo..

He wanted to see her.

Lucius rather thought the very fact that he had a desire to see his young wife was ample reason to deny the urge. He wasn't meant to fall in love with her. She was so young that lust wasn't even acceptable. He had claimed her friendship- and friends was what they were meant to remain. Distant friends, he decided prudently. In spite of his resolve, he found it difficult to rid Narcissa from his thoughts. He needed a distraction desperately.

It wasn't too long before he got his wish.

The Malfoys had always been useful to the Dark Lord. Even charismatic, visionary wizards needed money- something that the Malfoys had in spades. While they were welcome to funnel their galleons into the Pureblood cause, they were never invited to the inner circle- until Lucius wed Narcissa.

Grudgingly, Lucius supposed it made sense. If one's primary agenda was founded on the proposition that Pureblooded wizards were superior, it made sense to surround one's self with the purest of the pure. Nevertheless, it was vexing when, in consequence, Lucius found himself excluded. He felt no compunction abusing his grandfather's name- and the name of the little Irish bitch in question- with the very darkest aspirations and the blackest curse, as it was through their notorious behaviour that his bloodline could not be proved. He knew that he was pure- but that knowledge was not enough for the Dark Lord until his marriage to Miss Black.

"This alliance pleases me, young Malfoy." Lord Voldemort had said in a soft, oily voice that sent prickles up and down Lucius's spine. "You must have a chance to prove your worth."

It was barely a week after that first meeting when Lucius had received a summons- and his life had never been the same.

He had never killed before.

He knew that the Death Eaters did. He knew that it was necessary. He didn't feel that it was particularly wrong, but he had never felt the hot blood of another man running over his fingers before that first, fateful night. He had never felt fear, surging through every vein in his body before Apparating to a safe point as the Dark Mark glowed eerily in the sky above. He'd never felt the tension of waiting, ears craned, through an endless, starless night for Aurors who never arrived.

He never did manage to feel guilt.

His assignment had been to kill a Muggle family who lived in a London house. He was not informed of their crime. Truly, he doubted they had committed one, besides being born without wizarding blood. He had been given a test- kill the Muggles without using your wand- they were simply a means to that end.

He passed, of course. His young wife had been right when she had mused over Bellatrix's information months before: Lucius never played a game that he couldn't win. He didn't attempt to join Lord Voldemort's inner circle without knowing- or thinking that he knew- what that allegiance would cost. It was a gory business- but achieving power often was, and he wanted to be powerful. He wanted to quiet every tongue that had whispered "Halfblood" behind his father's back, or who had ever insinuated that Lucius's money had bought the only respectability that the Malfoys had.

He didn't think of Narcissa.

It wasn't that he didn't want to. Quite the contrary. He simply didn't want her tainted by the things he did. The memory of their week in Paris- the happy, free, joy of companionship that they had shared- was like a treasure tucked inside a box. It didn't matter how dirty and twisted the rest of his heart became. She was safe as long as he kept her tucked inside.

He killed the Muggles.

A week later, he killed another wizard and his wife.

The week after that, he received a visit from Mordecai and Rodolphus Lestrange. "Our friend requests your company for dinner." The elder Lestrange had announced while his son remained stonily silent. "Could you join us?"

"My father-"

"Was not extended an invitation," Mordecai finished almost as soon as the words had formed. "Bring your wand," he said, and then twisted and Apparated away.

That was the night he had taken the mark.

Lucius stared at it, rubbing the blackened flesh for a moment before turning his attention to the envelope in his lap.

The letter was nondescript enough: cream parchment with a green wax pressed in the shape of a pair of writhing snakes. It could have come from any Slytherin- only Lucius knew that it hadn't. He recognized the seal. It had come from the Dark Lord himself.

Inside, written in a tidy, economical script, were instructions for the night of October 9th. He was to join Rodolphus and another man. Lucius's eyes skimmed over the rest of the commands: Murder, torture…He accepted the orders calmly, already growing numb to the carnage- but then he remembered. The ninth was Narcissa's birthday. He felt the first real surge of emotion that he'd allowed himself to feel almost since they'd returned from France. He'd have to cancel their date.

It was for the best. Lucius tried to console himself with this thought. He had been looking forward to seeing her again too much. Probably, the Dark Lord had known. It was another test- and Lucius was in too deep to back out now. He could send Narcissa a rain check- or perhaps only a brief excuse? It was rapidly becoming apparent that Orion Black was right. It would be better if they were out of contact completely, at least until Narcissa finished school.

Trying to ignore the disappointment that he felt, Lucius wrote an owl. He sent it to the school, along with instructions from their jeweller to send a gift on his behalf. It would have to be enough- at least, it was all that Lucius was willing to risk.

..ooOOoo..

Narcissa considered skipping breakfast on the morning of her birthday. Clearly, she wasn't going to eat a bite. An entire week of expecting, then hoping, and finally praying for an owl from her husband had worked her nerves to a fever pitch. He'd promised to meet her in Hogwarts that day. Had he forgotten? Had he changed his mind? Both possibilities filled her with disappointment. Then she remembered that breakfast was when the owls delivered the post. She supposed that the Malfoy's eagle owl had the sense to find its way to the dungeons if it didn't discover her at the meal, but she couldn't bear to wait even the extra second more. She roused herself and went down to eat.

She could have wept in relief when the dark, sleek bird swooped out of the sky and dropped a package at her plate. The little box hit the table with a satisfying thump, and she struggled not to smile as she ripped the packaging away. The conversation around her halted abruptly as she revealed the distinctive purple box of a purchase from Cullinan & Hope – premier dealers in cursed and exceptional gems. The silence

transformed to gasps of amazement as she lifted the lid away. Inside was an exquisite necklace. Strung onto a blue velvet ribbon was a pendant the size of an egg. At its centre was a pale blue diamond. Fanning out in six directions were smaller, white diamond and platinum branches forming a delicate, glittering snowflake shape.

"Cissa its gorgeous!" Olivia breathed in awe-struck admiration.

"It's from Lucius, isn't it?" Violet added a second later.

Narcissa hadn't read the card, but she felt certain that it was. Who else would send her such an extravagant present? She had never owned anything like it. Skin glowing with pleasure, she turned to read the note.

Abruptly, her rapture faded.

"Dear Narcissa,

Please forgive the fact that I am unable to deliver your present

in person. As you sagely anticipated, I regret that business detains

me in town. I trust that you will have a pleasant birthday.

Kindest Regards,

Lucius Malfoy."

"Narcissa, is something wrong?" Olivia asked, noting her friend's abrupt change of expression. "You're looking pale."

"I think…I think that breakfast didn't agree with me," Narcissa lied, trusting her empty-headed friends not to notice that she hadn't had a bite. "I think I'd better go back to bed. Will you get my Arithmancy assignment from Professor Abacus?"

"Of course."

Narcissa barely waited for a reply before she hurried out of the great hall and threaded back down into the dungeons and her room. Breakfast wasn't what had upset her, but her stomach was truly churning. Lucius wasn't coming! Was it possible that he had never intended to come at all? If he had, what accounted for the change?

It was possible that he was truly busy. An internal voice that sounded worryingly like Andromeda lectured as Narcissa finally made it to her bed. She tried to listen as she yanked her curtains closed, but tears were already pricking at her eyes. But he said he'd be able to take the afternoon off. She reminded herself. He had said surely he could spare an afternoon for his wife? Except he hadn't, and wouldn't.

It was probably another woman.

This voice sounded like Olivia. It was just the sort of gossipy warning that her "friend" would like to give if Narcissa ever dared to confide her fears. It had taken Olivia and Vy the full first month of school to believe that Narcissa wasn't pregnant after all- they would be anxious for a new scandal.

Well, who could blame him if he'd taken a lover? He certainly wasn't attached to her. Another woman- an older woman could give him what he wanted. She doubted this new, nameless witch, would ever let him sleep in a tub!

Bitter tears were already flowing down Narcissa's cheeks, but they fell harder as her imagination embroidered the tale. No, Lucius had not been made to sleep in the tub. He had slept very comfortably in the older witch's bed (Narcissa guessed it didn't hurt for tarts- Celia Makewand didn't seem to mind any of the things she apparently did with Remington Flint in the Potions Storeroom). She had probably offered to keep him entertained for the afternoon, and Lucius had wisely chosen the most attractive way to spend the day. He had sent his silly young wife a trifle- a bauble to tie around her neck- but he probably hadn't even picked it out himself. He had probably offered it to the older witch first, but she didn't like it, and they had sent it on.

Narcissa turned her watery gaze to the necklace, still sitting in its posh purple box, looking obscenely expensive, but not seeming to glitter as bright. It occurred to Narcissa that the necklace was a lot like her: a pretty thing that had cost the Malfoy's a lot of money- kept tucked away until a party or ball merited its presence.

She knew that she was acting unreasonably. Lucius was behaving no differently than she ought, but she wept inconsolably all the same. She didn't appear for any of her classes, and was still lying in her bed when their head of house came to bring her other presents, and to inform her that she was being transferred to another room.

Apparently the Malfoys, unlike other mere mortals (or even the lofty Blacks and Rookwoods who were nevertheless compelled to share the communal dorm) required chambers of their own. Narcissa had been vaguely aware of this before. She had assumed her husband's personal bedroom was attributable to his status as head boy, but it appeared that his great grandfather (of Irish lover fame) had donated a sizable endowment to the restricted section of the Hogwart's library and, in consequence, his progeny had been extended special quarters in recognition of this gift. In less than an hour Narcissa's things had been transferred: taken from the bland but cosy chamber that she had shared with the other Slytherin Sixth Year girls and moved to a compact but elegant suite near the Common Room door.

Narcissa had not noticed the room before. This was not unusual as the entrance was hidden behind a tapestry of writhing snakes. Only someone looking for the doorway, or exploring the Common Room very thoroughly would ever know of its existence. It's ceiling was very low, and it was no more than 12 feet on any side, but it was elegantly decorated, and very warm. A personal fireplace (connected to the floo) was at the centre of the room. Along the left hand wall, there was a doorway to a private bath.

After Narcissa was installed, she was left alone again. She had lost track of time, but the clock beside the bed read that it was after six o'clock. She supposed she should go to dinner, but she still wasn't hungry yet. Instead she rearranged her things. Then, she climbed into her bed. She knew it was crazy. Lucius hadn't been here for more than five years and everything was immaculately clean, but she would have sworn that the sheets and blankets still retained the smell of his cologne. He seemed everywhere around her- but he wasn't. He wasn't even close.

..ooOOoo..

The last days of Indian Summer waned into autumn, and then autumn passed into ice and snow. Narcissa barely noticed the changes as she absorbed herself in lessons.

"I don't know why you bother," Olivia exclaimed, rolling her eyes as Narcissa professed an intention to spend yet another starry winter night closeted in her room to "read ahead for Advanced Transfigurations" and get a start on a Potion Pharmacology essay that wasn't due until after break. "It isn't as if it matters how many NEWTs you get. You'll never have to work."

Violet nodded sagely. "You're letting the best years of your life pass you by and slip away."

Narcissa's friends failed to realize that those years were already spent. She could join them on the Quidditch pitch, or in the Common Room playing exploding Snap, but she could never recapture the innocence of her youth.

Malfoy hadn't even touched her, but he had marked her in a way that she couldn't define. Byron McKennon never looked at her now. None of the boys did. It was like the rings on her finger were brands, warning other men away. It wasn't that she wanted any of them- Circe knew that all the kisses she had ever given behind the tapestries in the third floor hallway, or behind the gameskeeper's hut (And Narcissa recalled smugly that she had certainly given her share!)- had never compared to the slightest brush from Lucius Malfoy's lips, but it was the knowledge that they were beyond her grasp that stung. It seemed fitting to Narcissa that she was closeted in a personal room. She felt otherwise so completely apart from her peers.

None of it would have mattered if Lucius had only flooed, or perhaps come to visit her once. Narcissa didn't know why that should be. It wouldn't change the fact that she would remain marooned at Hogwarts still- in the school but not of it- but it mattered for reasons she couldn't fully explain. Perhaps she needed to know that her sacrifice was worth it, but reassurance never came. Night after night she studied by candlelight until her eyes refused to stay focused, and then slipped into dreamless sleep, keeping treacherous thoughts at bay only with the power of exhaustion.

She couldn't fight her thoughts forever.

All too soon, it was time for the holidays. Narcissa received a Christmas card stamped with the Malfoy seal, but Lucius hadn't signed it. Her mother informed her that he had sent word. He was spending the holidays with his mother in France, and wouldn't think of asking them to spare their little girl.

"Wasn't that thoughtful?" Mrs. Black asked. The gift she had received from the Malfoy's- a rope of exquisite Tahitian pearls- seemed to have gone far in reforming her opinion toward her son-in-law.

Narcissa was happy to be home, truly she was, but she was frustrated all the same. A pall seemed to hang over everyone. Her cousin Sirius had run away. He had refused his parent's summons to return home for Christmas and announced that he was going to live with James Potter, his friend. Another blast had marred the Tapestry near Narcissa's sister's name.

It was the primary topic of conversation at the Black's annual Christmas Ball, and Narcissa was grateful to Sirius in a way. It kept her from having to explain to friends and family why her husband was abroad. She passed the remainder of the holidays helping to plan her sister's wedding.

Narcissa noted, rather sullenly, that wedding planning couldn't possibly be as difficult as Bellatrix made it seem. If the font of the invitations was so crucially important that they should be made to endure hours of debate on the merits of serif versus sans-serif fonts, then it was truly a miracle that they had made it through Narcissa's wedding unscathed. As she recalled it, she had only jabbed her finger at the first page that held any appeal, and the parchments had arrived the following day. No one had ever mentioned the invitations again, and she didn't recall their typeface herself.

"I think you're jealous, Cissa," Bellatrix had snapped, and Narcissa had scowled at her in return. She certainly didn't envy her sister's impending marriage. She certainly wished that she had never been made to get married at all.

The holidays finally ended. Narcissa returned to Hogwarts with the presents from her family and a fur lined cloak and muff, earrings to match her birthday necklace, and an enchanted Limogès teapot from her husband who was still in France.

She assumed that he liked the volume of Egyptian curses and curse breaking, and the new cravats that she had sent, but she never heard a single word.

Gradually, Narcissa grew used to the silence. At least, after Easter break, she ceased to expect that any word from her husband would arrive. He didn't even bother to excuse his absence during the summer, although she had always expected to pass those months at home. Bellatrix's wedding was on Midsummer's Eve: an enormous affair, which Lucius also skipped (which Narcissa found inexcusable when Rodolphus Lestrange had been his own best man!). Then her sister was gone as well, and she planned to pass the summer days alone with books.

Her quiet routine was shattered a few weeks later by a small announcement in the Daily Prophet. In the "Births" section on page fifteen it appeared : "To Mr. Theodore Tonks and Mrs. Andromeda (Black) Tonks, a daughter, Nymphadora Thumbilina Tonks, 7 pounds 4 oz.". That very afternoon, the name had emerged on the tapestry beneath the char. It was blasted off immediately, of course, but it sent her mother swooning again. Narcissa spent the rest of the summer soothing her alternately furious and desolate mum. She was relieved when September arrived again.

There was nothing from Malfoy Manor until her allowance appeared. She had received an increase ("A bonus for good behaviour?" she thought bitterly), wishes from Julius for a pleasant semester, and nothing more.

This year, when Christmas came, Lucius was not in France, but he did not make a visit to her house.

"They've been busy," Orion said, casting a worried glance across the table with her mother. "It's…the cause," he said warily, and Narcissa knew better than to ask any more.

Of course, she suspected that Lucius was involved with the Death Eaters. She didn't suppose that her father would ever let her marry someone who didn't share the "right ideas", no matter how badly they needed the money, but it had never occurred to her that he was actively supporting Lord Voldemort's campaign. The thought made her nervous. The wizarding world was at war. She didn't want Lucius caught in the front lines.

Every morning the paper brought new words on the casualties of the war- of suspected plots and suspected members. Every day after her father's mention of Lucius's association, Narcissa began to scan the Prophet religiously for some clue of what was going on.

She was terrified by what she read. Not a day seemed to pass without a new murder or torture, or some new threat. She appreciated that it was necessary- but she was frightened all the same. There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to the attack. Of course, Muggle-lovers and half-bloods could expect trouble. But there were wizarding folk being targeted as well. Some of Narcissa's friends in Slytherin had lost fathers, mothers, brothers…

And then it all hit home.

If Narcissa had been disturbed by the knowledge that Lucius was a Death Eater, the proof of her father's own involvement was an even harsher shock. She had no reason to be surprised. Orion Black had always been one of the pillars of the Knights of Walpurgis. Anyone of the "right sort of people" knew that this was another term for Voldemort's cabal, but she had never pictured her father- the gentle man whose hands had once rocked her to sleep, and whose wand had healed her skinned knees- actually carrying out their deeds. She wished that she had never known, but Fate did not agree.

It was after midnight on Christmas morning, but Narcissa was not asleep. She supposed, if she had been a child, she might have been lying awake for Father Christmas, but the truth was, she was fighting her thoughts. She was wondering where Lucius was, and if he were happy and safe- if he even remembered her or thought about her anymore- when she heard the front door open and close, and then footsteps in the hall.

The back of her neck prickled as silence refilled the house. Whoever had entered was being deliberately silent- and they certainly hadn't knocked on the door or called the elves! Narcissa slipped out of bed, drawing her dressing gown around her shoulders and then fumbling for her wand. She held it like a sword as she inched her way toward the door.

No burglar could ever enter Ravensden Hall. The wards that protected it were too powerful and too complete. She supposed it could be Bellatrix, or Rodolphus who had entered- they could come and go without setting off alarms- but she knew that they were both abroad. That left only those with malicious intent- and Narcissa didn't have to wonder too long whom they might be.

Her father had done something wrong.

Narcissa was struck with thought like a heavy blow against her chest. She had always worried about her father's prominence among the Death Eaters. She'd always thought it was a mistake. He was too Visible, too obviously a target, and too vulnerable if things went wrong. Were they about to pay for that miscalculation?

Panic began to spread through her veins like an icy frost, but she tried to fight it off. She repeated the spells that she had learned in Defence Against the Dark Arts and tried to calm her nerves, stepping silently toward the door.

Only one person was in the house. At least, when she strained her ears, she heard only one set of footsteps, and one echo of breathing in the hall. The person moved toward the staircase, squeaking quietly closer with every step.

Narcissa felt like she would faint as she crouched behind her door. She tightened her grip on her wand until her knuckles were tight. "Stupify…" she puffed out with every breath, though she doubted that the spell would be enough to do more against a full fledged Death Eater than give her time to rouse the house. "Stupify… Stupify…."

She peered through the doorway. In the Narrow crack that was open she saw a long black robe and the ghostly pallor of a plain white mask.

Narcissa's heart seemed to stop.

Then, a jolt of courage touched her spine. She jumped to her feet, adrenaline surging as she jumped forward with her wand.

"STUPIFY!" she screamed, sending a bolt of light whizzing through the hall. The figure started, drawing its own wand…and ducked away.

Narcissa crumpled as she realized her volley had missed. There was a steaming hole in the wall where her spell had hit, but the Death Eater had not been touched. Its wand was raised. Amazingly, it didn't strike.

Barely believing her luck, Narcissa lifted her wand again. Her throat was so dry she wondered if she would be able to speak, but she never got a chance to try.

"Petal, don't!" the figure said. She nearly dropped her wand in surprise as the mask was stripped away.

It was her father.

"Orion?"

Narcissa's mother had been roused by the spell. She ran through the house, her long blonde hair flying free of its braid as she rushed toward her husband. She put her hand over her mouth and gasped. Only then did Narcissa notice that he was covered in blood.

"Daddy?" she asked in a quavering tone, but he was ignoring her in favour of her mother.

"Is it…it isn't…?" Mrs. Black asked, her body beginning to shake.

Orion seemed to understand the question. "Yes," he nodded. "It's over. It's done."

Narcissa didn't understand what they were saying, and didn't know why her mother had to be carried back to bed. The next morning, however, it was obvious.

"Pureblood Heir Murdered!" The Christmas Morning Prophet blared. "Regulus Black, Suspected Death Eater, found dead."

Christmas was cancelled.

Narcissa spent the day in her room, barely able to think. Her cousin was dead. It seemed likely that her father had killed him- or at least been part of the plan. Voldemort had touched even the Blacks. Was anything safe anymore?

The very last of her innocence was stripped away, and she didn't know where to turn. Her mother and aunt were in the parlour, wrapped up between themselves, alternately screaming and crying and not knowing what or how to feel. Her father was locked in his study. Bellatrix and Rodolphus had not arrived, which meant that Narcissa was left alone.

She wanted Lucius- needed Lucius. She didn't even know why she still wanted him- why she still trusted him when he had forsaken her for so long, but he had promised to be her friend, and she needed a friend so desperately now!

"Come to me!" She had never been much of a legilimens, but she prayed for skill, sending the thought out with all her might to wherever her husband might be. "Come to me, Lucius." She broadcast. "Come to me. Save me. Hold me." But it was for naught.

Regulus was buried the next day, in a little grave apart from the rest, and she returned to school still alone.

Spring term brought with it the NEWT exams, and Narcissa passed every test. She smirked at the shock on the faces of her friends- they had only ever thought of her as a silly blonde. Still, it was to be expected, she had done nothing but study for the past two years. At least she had something to show for it.

No one had mentioned what would happen now that her schooling was through. Narcissa had always understood that she would go to Malfoy Manor, but the topic had not been broached, and Lucius had still failed to send a letter or note. The suspense was as maddening as it had ever been, but at least it didn't hurt as much as it had before.

Narcissa had changed in the last two years, mentally as well as physically. Her body was different, of course, but that barely drew her notice. No one looked at her anymore- but she was very conscious of the change in her mind. She had grown inward. She was no longer the uncertain little girl who had married Lucius Malfoy too years ago. She was more introspective now- but so much stronger than she had been before.

She didn't cry when she brought her bags to the station and bade farewell to some of her friends for the very last time.

"You will write to me, Cissa?" squealed Violet Sharp, who had recaptured her Charlie and would be Violet Parkinson before summer's end.

Narcissa was noncommittal. "Perhaps," was all she would say.

Most of the graduates were taking Portkeys, or Apparating back to their homes, but Narcissa hadn't yet sat for her licence, and decided to take the train. She miniaturized her numerous belongings, and packed them into her trunk, sitting in a compartment alone for the whole long way back to town.

King's Cross Station was noisy and bustling with life. Narcissa waited for the younger children to step off the train before she wrestled her own trunk off the shelf and ported it onto the platform where she scanned the crowd for someone she knew, a little depressed, but rather unsurprised, when she saw no one there to greet her.

Of course, she hadn't expected Lucius to be there to meet her, which was not to say that a tiny, traitorous sliver of her heart had not secretly longer for it, but his absence was hardly unusual. Narcissa wondered bitterly if she would even recognise her husband when she did finally see him! That fateful day could not be too much further away, surely?

Her parents however, she had expected to see. They hadn't troubled themselves with taking her to the station at the beginning of the school term or picking her up at its end for a couple of years, but this was her last year, the last time any of their children would ever be getting off the Hogswart Express. She knew things were not as they had been before her cousin's death- before his murder- but they could have made a littleeffort!

Narcissa scowled angrily. Well, if no one could be bothered to come and meet her, then she didn't know if she could be bothered to go home! (At least not for a few more hours at any rate.) She carried her trunk over to the stationmaster's office and asked him to arrange for it to be sent back to Ravensden Hall ahead of her. The portly stationmaster didn't look too pleased about this request, but once Narcissa dropped her surname he became only too happy to help.

Less than half an hour after stepping off the train Narcissa was wandering down Diagon Alley looking in the shop windows. It had been a while since she had needed to buy anything new, but the lack of necessity was no longer a reason to deny herself pretty new things. Narcissa wandered to her favourite boutique and peeked into the windows. She decided that she wasn't in the right mood to shop, but neither did she want to go home.

She chose instead to stroll into a little café, one that her mother had often taken she and her sisters to during shopping trips when they were growing up. Narcissa ordered a cream tea and settled herself into a cosy booth. She poured herself a cup of milky tea, and smothered a scone with clotted cream and strawberry jam, taking her time to eat one of her favourite childhood foods. It actually made her feel a little better and by the time she finished she felt ready to face her parents.

The public floo was the fastest method of transport, so Narcissa bought a pinch of power, stepped into the public grate with a clear 'Ravensden Hall' and a few moments later, after a hot, queasy journey, tumbled out of the fireplace and into the entrance hall of her home. She righted herself quickly, brushed some off the soot of her clothes and decided that she really did need to prepare to sit for her Apparating license. It was the most convenient way to travel by far.

"Narcissa! There you are!" exclaimed her father, who had heard the floo and come to investigate.

If he was so eager to see her, he could have met her at the station, Narcissa thought crossly, but she didn't say anything more than: "Hello Daddy. It's nice to be home."

"You should have been home hours ago! Anything might have happened to you," Orion Black sighed, his face looked oddly strained. He always looked strained nowadays though, so Narcissa didn't think too much of it, except to feel a little appalled with herself for going out of her way to deliberately cause her father more trouble.

"I'm sorry," she apologised, more because it was what her father wanted to hear than because it was something she really felt she ought to say. "It took longer than I expected to say goodbye to my friends, we stayed in London together for a little while," she said easily. Her father would prefer the lie to the truth.

He nodded, seeming to accept this excuse. "Well, you're here now, petal. They haven't been waiting that long," he forced a smile.

"They haven't?" Narcissa frowned, not understanding whom her father meant.

"No, and it might do them some good to be forced to wait once in a while," Orion actually chuckled. "If I didn't know better I'd say you planned this, Cissa. However, I'd better take in now before Lucius comes out to find you himself."

"Lucius is here?" Narcissa choked.

"Yes, and has been for the past few hours, along with his father." Orion didn't look especially pleased about this state of affairs. "They want to discuss what's going to happen with regard to your- ah marriage now that you've left school." Narcissa looked suddenly furious, but her father mistook the cause of her anger. "I know petal, I don't know why they couldn't have waited a little longer myself."

"It's not that- it's just-" He's ignored me for two entire years, and now he thinks he can simply waltz back into my life again? "-I'll need to change first," she said aloud. Her father looked uneasy.

"I'm not sure-" he began, but Narcissa had already started walking towards the staircase.

"I'll be down when I'm ready," she announced coolly. "I'm sure Lucius can wait a little while longer. He's never been in any great hurry to see me before today," she added, rather loudly. Her father frowned crossly, but she had already started to climb the stairs before he could reprimand her for her uncivil outburst.

It hardly took a moment for Narcissa to slip out of her comfortable travelling robes and into an icy blue dress that highlighted her eyes and very nicely accentuated her new womanly figure. The silky fabric hugged her tiny waist, full breasts and shapely hips. Violet had picked it out for her on a shopping trip that they had shared to London - declaring that she would knock the socks off any man within fifty feet of her when she wore it. Narcissa had been rather dubious of this claim – given that the rings weighing down her left hand seemed to make her entirely invisible to the opposite sex – but it was a very pretty colour, and the sales assistant had commented that it could have been made just for her when she tried it on.

Her hair and makeup took a similarly short time to fix, but Narcissa lingered in her room for as long as possible. Not because she was especially nervous, although she was trying to ignore the strange skipping beat of her heart and the damp, shakiness of her hands, but because she wanted Lucius to know how it felt to be left waiting and forgotten about, even if it was only the smallest taste of what she had suffered over the past two years.

Finally, when she could contrive no further reason for lingering in her room, she sauntered out into the corridor and slowly made her way downstairs to the drawing room, or at least she tried to walk slowly, but the closer she got the faster her feet seemed to move – perhaps Lucius had really had just reasons for staying away? Perhaps he would explain it all? Perhaps things would be just as they had been during that one week in Paris?

By the time Narcissa's hand reached for the door handle a delightful blush had crept into her cheeks and an excited brightness lit her eyes. She pushed open the door to the drawing room, hearing the murmur of low voices coming from inside, and momentarily faltered, when four pairs of eyes turned to stare at her.

"Ah Narcissa, come in and join us." Orion Black was a looking even more stressed than before, Narcissa suspected, with a tiny twinge of guilt that this was her fault for dallying.

She smiled warmly at both her parents before turning to nod her head respectfully in Mr Malfoy's direction. Her father-in-law answered with a rather smug smirk, and only after that did she let her eyes seek out Lucius. She had caught a glimpse of him in her periphery the moment that she had entered the drawing room, but pride had refused to let her eyes linger on his face until at least a few moments had past.

"Afternoon, Narcissa," he breathed. "You look..."

Her stomach somersaulted.

She must have imagined the hitch in his breath, Narcissa told herself firmly, as she struggling to remember that she was furious with him. He was different. He had altered somehow. She had never thought of Lucius as boyish, but seeing him now, after the passing of two years, he seemed so much more like a man. He was taller, she was certain of it, and broader across the chest, but it was not so much the little changes in his physical attributes as it was the alteration in his face that made him look older. There were lines and shadows where there hadn't been any before, and his eyes- his eyes which had always shimmered like bright silver, were now hard, cold slate.

"Good afternoon," she whispered uncertainly. "I-" but she couldn't think of anything to say.

"Well, are we going to stay standing forever?" Julius commented tersely; the three gentlemen had risen when Narcissa entered the room.

Lucius shot his father an annoyed glanced, as, with a very fetching blush, Narcissa sat down in a Louis XV period chair across from her parents. His eyes remained on her as she smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress and then laid her hands in her lap. She looked up, her features arranging themselves into a little confused frown when she caught him staring.

How could he not stare? Lucius wondered raggedly. He had expected her to be pretty. She always had been, and he had prepared himself to encounter the transformation of this innocent prettiness into feminine beauty, but he had not been prepare for Narcissa to take his breath away.

She looked divine, sitting across the room from him, golden hair crowning her head like a halo. Lucius shifted uncomfortable in his chair. He wanted to ravish her, he wanted to spoil, but… he didn't want to ruin her. He took a long, deep breath to cool the passion Narcissa had artlessly ignited, and reminded himself of his promise to her. He had sworn not to force her into anything she wasn't ready for. She was stillterribly young.

But not too young, not now, purred a hedonistic little voice inside Lucius's head, and Lucifer, did she looked ready.

"- don't you agree, Lucius?" His father's voice sliced though his thoughts. Lucius hadn't a clue what he was talking about. Julius Malfoy scowled in annoyance. "I said, that it is high time Narcissa begins living in the Manor, and assumes the full mantle of responsibilities that come with the privilege of being your wife."

"Narcissa is not ready to take on the management of a household as large as yours, Mr Malfoy," Mrs Black began imploringly, Lucius assumed that he was the Mr Malfoy in question, given that it was him she was staring at.

"Perhaps," Narcissa interjected softly, dangerously silkily, "I would not be so regrettably lacking in experience if I had been permitted to visit your house, to see how everything is run, at some time the last two years, Mr Malfoy?"

There was no doubt as to who was the Mr Malfoy in question this time.

Lucius frowned. If she knew some of the things that had taken place in the Manor over the course of her absence, she would be thanking him for protecting her! This woman was clearly not the shy young girl who had left him in Paris two years earlier, he reasoned slowly.

"You'll see it soon enough," he drawled. His voice was cold and crisp, but he saw the flicker of interest that Narcissa wasn't quite quick enough to hide and felt himself soften.

"Will I?" she asked, edging a little forward in her chair. The tip of her tongue darted out to moisten her lips and Lucius could feel himself beginning to be undone. "When do you think?"

"No time like the present," he said with a roguish smile.

"Now wait a moment, Lucius!" Orion said quickly. "This is what we're all here to discuss. You can't take her just away like that!"

Lucius sighed irritably. He had waited two whole years to claim his wife. He didn't see that he needed to wait any longer. However, even without her father's apparent objection, Narcissa's surprise at his remark was visible, and more than a little undermining. Lucius frowned. He had left her alone for two years, allowing Narcissa to live out her life as if he didn't exist. He was damned if it was going to continue doing so!

"Narcissa," he said standing, unable to keep a slight growl from his voice. "May I speak with you-" her impossibly blue eyes widened as he pulled her to her feet in spite of their parents watching eyes "-alone."

Narcissa extracted her arm. "I can't imagine what Mr. Malfoy has to say to me that he can't say here," she answered coolly and started to turn away, but he quickly caught her elbow again and prevented her escape.

Truthfully, Lucius could imagine very few things fighting to be voiced that he could say in the presence of their parents. "Indulge me," he growled.

Narcissa stiffened as warring impulses surged through her. She was hot with anger- How dare Lucius, after so much time, expect her to cater to his whims? But she was also shivering with awareness of his presence- of the strength in his fingers, and the masculine rumble of his voice.

"No," she puffed boldly, but then her eyes grew wide as she braced herself for her husband's response.

Mrs. Black gasped at her daughter's insolence, and Orion raised his voice. "Narcissa!"

Lucius, however, appeared unperturbed. "You'll have to excuse my wife," he said in strained tones. "I believe that she's overtired. Perhaps my dear it would be best to continue our visit with your parents another day."

Narcissa blinked in confusion, but the look turned to panic when she realized she was being carted toward the floo.

"But I only just got home!" she squealed in protest, hating the little-girl whine in her voice, but powerless to prevent it.

"You only just got here." Lucius corrected sternly. "You'll feel better after you've had some rest."

"But-!" Narcissa started, but further objection died on her lips as she looked from face to face and failed to find a sympathetic eyes. Lucius was cold, Julius was sneering, and Mr. and Mrs. Black looked decidedly embarrassed about their youngest child's behaviour.

"We'll…see you soon, my dear." Mrs. Black said uncomfortably as Lucius herded Narcissa into the floo. "

Malfoy Manor!" he said in a commanding tone. Green flames licked at Narcissa slippers, and the last glimpse of her childhood home, finally faded away.

**TO BE CONTINUED**

Thank you for your continued feedback. It is important to us to know what works and what doesn't so that we can write a better story, and you will have something (hopefully!) fun to read! We look forward to hearing from you – A. & K.


	8. The Mistress of Malfoy Manor

**Chapter 8  
The Mistress of Malfoy Manor**

**By ****aulizia**** and ****kirixchi**

Travelling by floo always left Narcissa queasy so she wondered at first if she was still a little woozy when she first stepped out of the grate. She had arrived in what had to be the largest drawing room ever contrived by wizarding kind. The ceilings were fifteen feet high, at least, capping walls covered in dark wood panelling and crimson silk. In the centre hung a brass and crystal chandelier so huge that it dwarfed the chairs and sofas groups into small clustered in the room below. The furniture itself was exquisite: heavy, richly carved antiques that bore not the slightest sign of wear. The polished floor was covered in Aubussinian rugs. The only possible critique was that it was dark- thick velvet curtains blocked out all but the faintest light. Taken together, it effortlessly eclipsed every other dwelling she had ever seen.

She must have been staring. Lucius, his anger beginning to fade, cast her an anxious look. "Narcissa?" he asked in a gentle voice.

She hardened herself against his civil tone. "Ah, so it _does_ exist," she snapped snidely. Then, lofting her chin to indicate that she was _not_ impressed, she stepped gingerly out of the floo.

Lucius frowned at her response. He admitted that he was partial to his own home, but he knew that his pride was not misplaced. Narcissa was trying deliberately to be difficult.

He couldn't understand why she was miffish. It was, of course, at least partially attributable to the way he had carted her out of her home, but she had been angry before that, refusing his extraordinarily reasonable request to speak to her alone, so it must have been something else.

Try as he might, however, Lucius could think of nothing he had done that should have sent her out of sorts. He had kept his word. He had left her completely to her own devices as she finished school. Surely she wasn't finding fault with that?

Perhaps she was? Lucius could recall at least two instances during their brief, unsatisfactory reunion when she had made a pointed remark at never being invited to the Manor before. Perhaps she was right? He ought to have invited her down for dinner or tea? But did she really need to wait for an invitation?

Narcissa twisted toward him, making a little, impatient sound. "Well, I assume there's more than one room?" She huffed. "Or is this where I'm meant to sleep?"

_No, this was **not** where she was meant to sleep_, Lucius thought lustily as he drank in her form once more. He'd had no idea that two years could make so much difference. If he had…well, it was probably best not to think of what might have happened in that event. It had been hard enough to keep his promise before - and that was when his memories of Narcissa were only as a scrawny, teenaged girl!

"This way," he growled quietly, not trusting himself to say more, or even to take her arm as he led her to the hall.

Narcissa was grateful that her husband walked a little ahead, because it was becoming more and more impossible to hide her outright awe. They passed at least two other drawing rooms and a music room on their way toward the central hall. In the centre of the house there was a grand, central staircase, which they ascended to another floor.

Lucius stopped in front of a doorway and gestured for her to step inside. Once again, Narcissa had to fight the urge to gawk.

Like the drawing room, the ceilings were very high. Rather than the dark, fruity wood of the formal areas, however, this chamber was decorated completely in ivory and white. The only colour at all came from gilded detailing on the white-canopied bed and other furniture, and the ice blue curtains and pillows on the bed.

Narcissa didn't have to ask whether he meant to share the chamber, or if she would inhabit it alone. There was no sign of male habitation. It was feminine to the extreme- though she didn't doubt that Lucius had plans to visit. About halfway down the left-hand wall, a doorway was ajar. "My room," he informed her when he noticed her eyes. She inclined her head the merest fraction of an inch, and fought down the curiosity to peek inside.

"You have your own bathroom," Lucius said, stepping past her to gesture to a second door. Inside there was long, marble counter, toilet, and claw-footed tub.

"That looks comfortable," she remarked dryly.

Lucius refused to rise too completely to her bait, though under his breath he muttered: "Self-preservation."

"I trust this will be acceptable?" Lucius finally asked a moment later, after Narcissa had a change to inspect the room.

"For now," she replied, still churlishly unwilling to let him know how very lovely that she thought it was.

"I'll leave you to rest then," he muttered back, and she fancied he sounded stung, but didn't have time to determine before he stepped into his own room and locked the door.

"Typical," Narcissa sighed as she inspected the handle. She saw that it locked from only one side- _Lucius's_ side- so there was no way to follow him into his room. She could scarecely blame him for running away, but she felt strangely deflated now that he was gone.

This wasn't how she wanted things to be. Narcissa sighed and sank down onto the edge of her new bed. Things were happening too fast. If she'd only had time to prepare, time to think, then perhaps she would have been able to greet her husband properly….perhaps? What did he expect her to do? Narcissa shivered when she thought of _one_ thing that her husband probably expected- and she wasn't sure whether to attribute that shiver to excitement or fear.

Feeling agitated, she started to pace the room. She wondered if it was permissible to leave. After all, she wasn't really a prisoner here. She supposed- if she chose, she could floo back home to Ravensden and wait for Lucius to drag her back again. At the very least, she could explore the house and grounds. However, her husband had left her to rest, and she felt it was implicit in that action that she was expected to remain. Luckily, there was plenty to explore in her own room.

Narcissa regretted her earlier behaviour. It was childish to pretend that she wasn't utterly enchanted with her chamber. She had never inhabited a more beautiful space. It was obvious from the gleaming furniture and flawless linens that the whole suite had been recently redone. It looked just like a Princess's bedroom out of a fairytale book at home- and it briefly crossed her mind that, perhaps, Lucius had set his designers to copy it.

She didn't understand why he went to so much effort. Narcissa scrunched her nose as she considered the puzzle. He hadn't been bothered to speak to her- to even sign the card with his gifts!- for nearly two full years, but it was obvious that she had at least been in his thoughts. What had stilled his hand from contacting her? Why hadn't he owled or flooed, even if he couldn't spare the time to pay a call? If the answer was that he didn't care, why was he making an effort now? He already had her, after all. The vows she had taken at their wedding were nigh unbreakable. He could lock her in the dungeons if he wanted. There was nothing stopping him, after all.

Narcissa rather suspected that it would take more than one evening to puzzle out the solution to her thoughts. Too unsettled to pay them the attention they deserved, she distracted herself instead, opening the drawers and cabinets in her room.

At first, Narcissa was confused. She expected the furniture to be empty, or, since Lucius and his father had come to collect her, that her things had been sent ahead. She was puzzled to find stacks of garments that she didn't recognize at all.

_They must belong to another woman_. She thought automatically and not without a jealous scowl, but she quickly discounted this theory. None of the robes had ever been worn. Most were wrapped in paper from their boutiques.

Narcissa recognized many of the designers whose names were embroidered in the backs of the gowns: Sirena, Aphrodite, Madame Zelda…She caressed the thick silks and velvets covetously. Whoever had left them had excellent taste. She had never been able to afford more than a few such robes herself, though she assumed that was going to change.

_They had to be Lucius's mother's_. She was relieved when she figured it out. Evangeline didn't stay at the Manor, but she must store dresses here. Surely her mother in law wouldn't mind if she looked at one or two? After all- they _were_ in Narcissa's room.

Narcissa reached into the armoire and pulled out a stack of gowns, smiling to see that they were all still bearing tags. She laid them out on top of her bed, oohing and aahing when each seemed more exquisite than the last. There was one silver gown that she admired above all of the rest. Gauzy and low-cut, it was embroidered with snowflakes around the neck, and was paired with warm, grey-velvet robes to be worn overtop.

It was a shame that she and Evangeline weren't the same size anymore! Narcissa sighed. She would have begged to borrow it if they were. The last time they met they had seen eye to eye and her slight, teenaged body had been as slender and reedy as Mrs. Malfoy's own, but over the past two years, Narcissa had grown at least five inches more. She was much fuller now too around the bust and hips. In spite of the knowledge that it would never work, Narcissa couldn't resist the temptation to try it own. She just wanted to see the fabric against her complexion. Perhaps the designer could make a new one for her as well? Narcissa stripped out of the pretty blue gown that she was wearing and laid it on the bed. Then, she pulled the new robes over her head.

She stared.

They were a perfect fit. Like the dress she had been wearing a few minutes before, they hugged her curves exactly, and the full skirt barely brushed the floor. Evangeline Malfoy would be swimming in the dress!

Frowning sharply, Narcissa removed the gown, and selected another from the pile. As before, the tailoring was exact- as if someone had gotten her measurements and made the gown to order. It was the same with the next, and the next…A suspicion was growing in her mind, though she didn't want to believe it. She could no longer deny the truth, however, when she opened her dresser drawer. A peach silk bathrobe was folded on top. The pocket was monogrammed with the initials: "NBM".

_Narcissa Black Malfoy_. In spite of how cross she was at Lucius a glow began to spread through her limbs. The clothes, like the furnishings, had been made to order for _her_. Giddy with this realization, she began to tear through the drawers.

There had to be a hundred gowns- and they had all been made for summer! She could change them twice a day and never wear the same thing again. Each one was exquisite. Opening the dresser she found scarves and stockings, and pretty strands of beads, soft fuzzy slippers for her bath, and satin ones to wear before bed, makeup, brushes, bottles of her favourite perfume…

Narcissa reached the bottom drawer, and then she inhaled sharply.

Years earlier, she and her mother had discussed (much to her mortification) the acquisition of a trousseau…but the subject had never been raised again. Narcissa had made an effort over the years to acquire foundations that she wouldn't mind being seen, but she had never even considered the wicked little confections that she found tucked in the bottom drawer.

Embarrassed but fascinated, she started sorting through the stack, pulling out the garters and corsets, short, gauzy nightgowns, tight chemises, and knickers that were the merest wisps of satin and lace.

Her entire body felt charged as she held them up against figure, imagining how they would feel on her skin- and how they would feel coming off- picturing hot, glowing embers in Lucius's eyes when he saw them…

"Narcissa?"

She jumped to her feet, spinning around to face Lucius just as he burst through the door. He quirked a brow at the lingerie she was holding. Blushing, she hid it hastily behind her back.

"Good, you're still here," he said and tried to look around her shoulder. Narcissa closed the drawer with her foot. "Are you rested? I wanted to tell you that it's time to eat," he fell momentarily silent as his eyes skated over her figure, looking mildly puzzled before a smile tugged one corner of his mouth. "I see you took the opportunity to change at least."

"Oh!" Narcissa exclaimed as she felt colour flood her face. She was still wearing one of the dresses that she had been admiring, a dusky pink confection with thin shoulder straps and a slightly flared skirt. "I'm sorry… I was just… looking," she said weakly. "But the dresses were so pretty, I couldn't resist trying on a few," she added apologetically.

Lucius chuckled softly. She liked the caressing sound of his rich, velvety laugh. She had missed it, Narcissa realised with a start.

"I'm pleased you have finally found something that meets with your approval," he remarked. He was still smiling as he said it, but Narcissa felt her blush deepen. Her behaviour had rather atrocious, but she was finding it hard to forget the fact he had ignored her for two whole years.

"Will your father be joining us for dinner?" Narcissa asked, trying to change the subject as she followed Lucius out of the room. She _would_ tell him how lovely she thought her bedroom, just not quite _yet_.

"No," Lucius sneered. "He's gone to visit his-" he stopped awkwardly and cleared his throat. "He's gone to see a friend."

Narcissa looked up at him curiously, but Lucius didn't elaborate so she tried to concentrate on the route from her chamber to the stairs, and then from the stairs to the dinning room. She was going to need a map to remember her way around the Malfoys house! They needed little signs posted in the corridors with directions so that people could find their way around, she thought with a smile.

"We'll be eating in the family dinning room as there's only the two of us," Lucius drawled. "We do of course have a larger room for formal occasions, but father and I seldom use it unless we're entertaining."

Narcissa nodded her head as she was led into what she assumed was the 'family dinning room', as Lucius had called it. Her mouth formed a wondrous little 'o'. It was _at least_ the size of the formal dinning room at Ravensden. The walls were panelled in the same dark wood as the drawing room Narcissa had arrived in, but this time the wood extended to the ceiling, which was ornately carved. Narcissa craned her neck to study the pattern, and then looked back down to see the room's centrepiece, a beautiful mahogany table, set for two. She could feel Lucius glance at her, no doubt waiting for her to level her latest criticism. She quickly closed her mouth, and tried to think of some positive, but not overly enthusiastic, comment to make.

"You don't like it?" Lucius frowned.

"No!...I mean 'yes'!" Narcissa fumbled. "I mean, I think it's very nice," she said softly.

This faint praise of his home went down little better than her outright censure. Still frowning, Lucius pulled out a chair for his wife and Narcissa sat down. She ran a finger nervously over her soup spoon and tried to think of something better to say about the room as Lucius took his seat opposite her.

"Well," he sighed, as two steaming bowls of asparagus soup appeared. "What are you going to change?"

Narcissa dropped the napkin she had been delicately unfolding. "Change?" she repeated looking across the table at Lucius. "About the house?" she asked in surprise. Her husband nodded. "But this is your home!

"Actually, it's not, it's _our_ home." He took a spoonful of soup and looked pensive. "Although I suppose it might take a while for you to get used to that," Lucius pondered aloud.

Narcissa nodded her head and took a bite of soup, certain that he was correct. She had been married for two years, and it still didn't seem real that she was actually Lucius Malfoy's wife.

"Is anything wrong with your food?" Lucius asked, frowning at the way Narcissa was slowly stirring her soup and never seemed to take a bite.

"No," she answered quickly. She lifted the spoon to her lips and swallowed. "It's delicious."

They ate in silence. Or rather, Lucius ate. Narcissa spent a great deal of time rearranging her food on her plate and pretending to take a bite every time that Lucius looked her way. She was ravenously hungry. She hadn't had much more than her cream tea all day, but she was far too nervous to eat. As the clock in the corner ticked down the minutes, she became more and more aware of what had to happen next.

"Still tired?" Lucius asked when the elves came to clear away the dessert.

"A little," she answered equivocally. "I thought I might read a bit before bed."

"That sounds...pleasant," he answered. The tone seemed strained, and it occurred to Narcissa for the first time that he might be feeling a little nervous too. She quickly discarded the idea, however, as her mother's words on her wedding day returned to her mind. "_I'm certain that Mr. Malfoy has had lots of experience_" Mrs. Black had said. "_I'm sure he'll know just what to do_."

Well, Lucius might know, but Narcissa definitely didn't- and her imagination was scaring her to death.

She'd tried to pay attention in the dorm over the past two years, but hadn't learned much at all. It was harder when she had a room of her own. She was no longer privy to the late night sessions of giggling and gossip that went on with the Slytherin girls.

_Bellatrix certainly seemed happy enough._ She reminded herself of her sister, trying to regain her calm. The older girl, much to Narcissa's horror, had returned from her honeymoon in St. Petersburg declaring proudly that the new Lestranges "had been too busy to see anything of the city at all". _Still..._

"I'll walk up with you," Lucius announced, helping his wife out of her chair. She nodded. After all, she still didn't know her way around the house. She trailed after him again in the halls, but rushed forward at her room, blocking him from entering the door.

"I'll just get changed for bed then," she said quickly.

Lucius nodded, "Right. Of course."

Narcissa left him standing in the hall as she closed and locked the door. "_For all the good that would do..._" Narcissa thought, real panic setting in as she paced her way to the bed. She couldn't do anything about the door connecting their rooms. Oh, she might set a lock with her wand, but she didn't doubt that he could come straight through it. It was his house after all, magically warded to him...and she was his wife. They both belonged to Lucius Malfoy irrevocably and would have to obey his command.

Narcissa tried to concentrate on the things she _was_ looking forward too, recalling in her mind the few brief brushes with intimacy they had experienced before. She remembered the thrill of being caught in his arms when she had fallen down the stairs, and the quiet comfort of listening to him sleep when they had been to Paris. She was learning to adore the sound of his voice, and he was certainly an attractive man. Surely she could endure the rest?

She would _have_ to endure it. Finally fed up with her own timidity, Narcissa stalked across the room to the dresser. She stripped out of her gown, and found something pretty from the bottom drawer. It was a simple chemise and knickers of stretchy lace, which matched a pretty, but sheer white gauzy gown. They weren't racy, but she was pleased with the effect. She admired her figure in the mirror- then went to her bed to feign reading until Lucius returned.

She didn't have long to wait.

It was only a few minutes before he knocked softly on the door and stepped inside. "I wanted to tell you goodnight," he drawled in a tone that was softer and huskier than it had been before.

"Oh," Narcissa answered dumbly. "Goodnight."

He hesitated in the doorway. For one, breathless moment, she thought that he would turn to go. Instead, he crossed the room to her bed. He settled into the edge, the mattress depressing under his hips as he leaned toward her.

"May I kiss you goodnight?"

It didn't occur to her to deny his request. Even if she hadn't wanted it- and she had never objected to the idea of kissing- he had already bent too close. Like gravity, he drew her toward him, their lips drifting inexorably closer until they finally touched.

Narcissa had been kissed before- gentle busses from Lucius, and deeper caresses by boys as school, but experience was irrelevant when he claimed her lips for the first time as her lover and not her friend. Electric friction ignited the second their skin began to touch, and the sensation only became stronger as he leaned forward and the pressure increased. She opened to him, surrendering her fear in the face of the flutters of pleasure that erupted under her skin. A curious throb had started in her womb, and her skin felt suddenly hot as his palms smoothed over her back, and his tongue thrust into her mouth.

She tried to answer though, in her experience, she didn't know what to do. She let him lead them both, licking, touching, sucking...Sensations assaulted her from too many places at once, so that she couldn't think, and didn't try to resist the assault.

Narcissa felt as though she was melting. Her body was liquid and boiling beneath his touch, yet, instinctively, it knew to respond. She had no control over her fingers as they traced the muscles in his back, or when they pushed his robe from his shoulders, revealing his broad and muscled chest. They skated down his spine, cupping him close to her hips.

Lucius lips lingered against her own for a long time, kissing her until she was breathless and then, working their way down her neck and onto her breasts. Nerves that she didn't know she had exploded in pleasure as he nipped and swabbed the delicate flesh with his teeth and tongue.

"Lucius!" She didn't recognize her voice as it called his name. Her fingers rooted in his hair, dragging him back to her mouth. She slid her own tongue against his own, tasting the honey-sweetness there as she tried to reciprocate what he had done before.

Her husband's hands began to grow impatient, tugging her free of her top. He slid a hand into her knickers- so hot and unexpected that she gasped. A bolt of pure pleasure snapped through her like a shot. Her body arced- but then she squealed and bucked away.

It was too much, too fast.

In spite of the fact that she loved everything that Lucius had done, Narcissa couldn't prevent the avalanche of her fears crashing over her at once. She wasn't ready. This was wrong! She was frightened, and it was all too soon.

Lucius didn't try to follow as she scooted away from him, nor did he try to stop her clutching the sheets around her body to hide her herself from his eyes. He stayed frozen exactly where he was, breath coming in ragged pants that he was gradually managing to slow. She watched, trembling, as his eyes clenched tightly shut, and then he turned away.

"I'm so sorry, Narcissa," he rasped, his voice cracking with an emotion she thought _might_ have been self-loathing. "I shouldn't have done that to you."

Narcissa shifted uncomfortably. Her terror was draining away, quickly replaced with embarrassment rather than fear. She wasn't ready – she had been right to stop him… but… but if only she could have just managed to tell him that calmly, to slow things smoothly instead of screaming like a banshee!

Her face crumpled. She couldn't find it in her heart to blame Lucius for his actions, however unwanted they might have been. Her mother had warned her that a man's appetite was very different to a woman's, and she didn't wonder that he was confused. One moment she was lying willing, compliant- enthusiastic even! - in his arms, and the next… Narcissa bit her lip. She didn't even want to think about it.

"Lucius?" she whispered, wanting to make him understand. She edged a little closer to him, reaching out to touch his shoulder. He recoiled. Illogically, Narcissa felt as if she had just suffered a punch to the gut.

"You needn't worry. It won't happen again," he grunted, still unable to look at her.

_He doesn't mean that_, Narcissa tried to tell herself sensibly, _you're going to bear his son._ But she was unable to quieten the new fears that stirred to life. She wasn't ready yet, but… Narcissa recalled the feel of Lucius's mouth on her body and shivered… but one day soon she would be, and Lucius was looking terrifyingly like he would never be able to bring himself to touch her again.

"_I'm_ sorry, Lucius," she sobbed suddenly. His haunted eyes raced back to her face in disbelief.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for," he growled firmly, after a moment's pause.

_Oh but she did_, Narcissa thought woefully. She had done everything she could think of to convince him that she was woman and not the child that he had known two years before. Except, when it had come to the ultimate test, she had simply proven to him, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she was very much still the little girl that he had married.

The mattress shifted as Lucius stood. "I'm sorry I frighten you," he sighed heavily, crossing the room to the door to his bedroom without looking back. Narcissa stared after him, speechless and wretched. What should she say? What could she do? There had to be something! Lucius muttered under his breath about changing the lock on the door that separated their rooms and then he was gone.

Narcissa had never felt so alone.

Her body felt restless and out of sorts, craving something she couldn't define. She curled up into a little ball and buried her head in the pillows, trying to stifle her sobs. What would happen now? Narcissa didn't think that one hurt a Malfoy and escaped unscathed. And she _had_ hurt him. For once, it had been so plain to read Lucius's eyes.

_Good,_ hissed a little voice inside her head. _He left you alone for two years and expected to hop straight into your bed the second he saw you?_

But she had encouraged him! Narcissa wailed into her pillow. Her behaviour was unpardonable. She had lain in his arms like a wanton harlot, moaning and writhing and loving everything he did… until he had crossed a line Narcissa hadn't even known was in place. If she didn't know it was there, how could she expect Lucius too?

She sniffed and sobbed, exhausting herself. Lucius would look somewhere else for his pleasure now, she was absolutely certain of that! He wouldn't trouble himself with his frigid little wife when there were so many more satisfying women only too ready to welcome him into their beds. Narcissa hugged her arms around her body, and cried herself to sleep.

..ooOOoo..

Lucius lay back on his bed and closed his eyes, trying to blot out the sound of sobbing coming through the walls. He could easily cast a silencing charm, but that would be too easy. In a twisted way, he was enjoying the torture- it was no less than he deserved.

He had ruined everything. Remorse was an unfamiliar emotion to Malfoy, but now that he felt it, Lucius wished there was a way that he could cast _crucio_ on himself. Surely it would be preferable to the unbearable agony of regret!

He knew that he should have taken things slow. He hadn't anticipated that he would _want_ to rush things quickly! From the very moment that he saw her, however, things had gone terribly wrong. It wasn't just that she was beautiful- though he couldn't deny the power of pure animal lust that she had triggered. There was a quality about her that he couldn't name, a "Narcissa-ness" that hung about her like a magnetic cloud and drew him in. She'd always had it: that spark of attraction, that hint of mystery that made him want to lean closer and linger longer in the hopes that he might coax another of her secret smiles. The passing years had only increased its power and he was too weak, or too foolish to resist.

Lucius hadn't even planned to bring Narcissa to his home that night. He had everything ready, of course, but he had gone to the Blacks to propose that she come to visit as soon as she'd gotten settled so that he could show her the countryside and the house. After a month or so of pleasant meetings, he would suggest that his wife spend the weekend- unmolested, naturally. She could bring her sister if she wished- and then, perhaps when summer was over, a trial habitation could begin.

Lucius had certainly NOT planned what actually happened- that he would be provoked into tossing her over his shoulder (almost literally), dragging her back to Wiltshire, and hauling her into his bed before she even had time to think. That very morning she had woken up in a four-poster bed at _Hogwarts_. No wonder she had been terrified!

Sick with self-loathing, he turned over in his bed and stared at her door. He supposed that he should offer to send her home, but a part of him was still unwilling to admit defeat. In spite of what he'd told her, he couldn't really promise never to touch her again. They were married, and he required an heir. That was an understanding from the beginning of their bargain- although, at least, it didn't need to be soon. Perhaps her feelings would change, as she grew older? Perhaps he could regain her trust?

Lucius replayed in his mind all of the happy memories that they had shared. Considering the short duration of their acquaintance- or, more properly, how little time they had spent together- it was impressive how many he could imagine: how spirited she had struck him from the very beginning at her cousin Lyra's wedding, the delight on her face when he had given her the Athenon, the joy he'd had spoiling her in Paris. Was there any chance of recapturing the past?

Although he was loathed to admit it, Lucius realized one thing. If there were any hope of regaining her good favour, she would have to be the one to make a move. He couldn't force her to accept his advances. He couldn't intrude on her space any more than necessary if they shared a house. They would dine together and attend balls and other normal, every day events where she would not have to be anxious in his presence. Then, when _she_ was ready, she could come to him. He hated it, of course. There was nothing to intolerable to Lucius as being powerless to act, but it was the only way.

He would have to wait for her to come to him.

..ooOOoo..

Narcissa felt strangely disorientated when she woke up the next morning. She opened one bleary eye and frowned. This wasn't her room at Hogwarts, nor was it her bedchamber at home, so where on earth was she?

She sat up with a jolt when she remembered the answer to that question – the Malfoy's Manor! With sickening vivacity the events of the previous evening returned to haunt her.

She flopped back down onto the mattress, (which she had to confess was delightfully snug,) and wondered if she could hide in her room all day? _No,_ Narcissa told herself firmly. Such a thought simply seemed to underline her juvenility. She would go down to breakfast and face the day head on. Besides, she was utterly starving after the meagre amount she had eaten the day before.

Narcissa washed her face, fixed her hair and dressed in a set of her new robes. She busied her mind with the menial little tasks of getting ready, while trying not to think about what would happen when she saw Lucius at the breakfast table. Would his contrite air have turned to anger? Would he have realised that his right to her body was not dependant on her willingness to give it to him?

She stood wringing her hands nervously for a moment, and then decided that she was never going to learn her fate if she cocooned herself in her room forever! She pulled open her bedroom door and glanced about the corridor to see if anyone was about, but everything was deathly quiet.

Narcissa reached the bottom of the stairs before she realised that she hadn't a clue where the breakfast room was situated. She dallied for only a moment before a sharp CRACK filled the air and a battered looking house elf appeared in front of her. It bobbed its head respectfully, hitting its forehead against the floor in its enthusiasm.

"Master Lucius said Dobby should show Mistress to the breakfast when Mistress come downstairs this morning," it squeaked.

"Oh," Narcissa assumed it was apprehension that was causing her heart to flutter, and not the fact Lucius had been thoughtful enough to send an elf to show her to breakfast. "Is Master Lucius already at breakfast then?" she asked quietly, as she was led down a completely new wing of the house.

"No, Mistress Narcissa." She couldn't account for her twinge of disappointment. Surely it was a good thing that he hadn't arrived yet? She could prepare herself this way. "Master Lucius has already left."

"What?" Narcissa gasped. She actually tripped down the step that led into the cosy little breakfast room. He had gone? The little elf glanced fearfully at Narcissa, sensing her displeasure.

"Master Lucius left early this morning for London, Mistress," Dobby whimpered pitifully, as if it was his fault.

"Did he- did he leave a message for me?" Narcissa whispered, taking a seat. Only one place was laid at the table.

Narcissa couldn't explain why she felt so bereft when the house elf shook its wretched head. Eating breakfast with Lucius would have been a most awkward and undoubtedly highly embarrassing affair, but there was something so cruel and cutting about his absence that Narcissa felt her appetite desert her. Should she prepare herself to be ignored for another two years because of her mistake the previous night?

There was, as yet, no method to predict the length of her exile from Lucius's company; there was no word from him all day. After picking at breakfast (her robust appetite seeming to have disappeared along with her husband), she spent the morning poking around the house. It was magnificent. She would have felt a great degree of pride in her surroundings if only she didn't feel like such a fraud! She was Lucius's wife in name only, and she didn't know how long that would last.

Figuring at least that she might make herself useful, Narcissa went to the kitchens after lunch. She commanded the attendance of the head elf- a tubby, grey-green creature, which was probably female by its name, and requested a thorough tour of the estate. She jotted down notes as they walked. There was nothing that she could fault in the dwelling's appearance, but after several years without a mistress, matters of management had begun to slip.

"Where are the week's menus?" Narcissa asked when they returned to the kitchen again. The little creature was forced to admit, in a miserable squeak, that menus had not been prepared. Likewise, there was no inventory of the larder, no count on the silver, no list of china patterns, and no calendar of when the linens had last been pressed.

There was a great deal of work involved in managing a great house. This, at least, was a task to which Narcissa was suited, and she welcomed the work. Compiling a list of tasks to for the elves to undertake, she spent several long hours pleasantly free of recriminating thoughts. At length, however, the dinner bell chimed...and Narcissa was dismayed to find the long mahogany table once again set for her to dine alone.

"I'll wait on Master Lucius." Narcissa said to the elves, not even bothering to take her seat.

The pair of servers exchanged a glance. "Master Lucius says he will eat in town, ma'am." the braver of the pair finally admitted.

_So, that was it then._

Like frost spreading on a pond, icy numbness started in Narcissa's heart and moved slowly to her limbs. She lifted her chin, too proud to let the servants see her cry.

"Miss is unhappy with dinner?" One elf began slowly, hopping forward with a cock-eyed glance.

"No," she hissed, and said nothing more as she turned and ran back up to her room.

She cried until her eyes were swollen, and then she lay awake, listening for her husband's return, imagining what had detained him for so long. She knew that his lateness was on purpose- if it hadn't been, he would have sent a note. Instead, he had sent a message to the elves! She wished that she could be angry, but the principal emotion throbbing through her body was hurt: the raw, exposed sensation of a scab being ripped off a wound. She had failed him again.

He was probably with another woman. The same, phantom woman who had haunted Narcissa since her days at school returned to her mind again, throwing back her perfect head and emitting a loud, patronizing laugh.

It was after midnight when she heard Lucius creep home at last. When it became apparent that he did not intend to call on his wife before he went to sleep, Narcissa walked to the dividing door herself.

It was locked.

For a moment Narcissa stared at the handle, reluctant to try again, but desperation egged her on. She could stand Lucius's contempt, or even his anger, but the thought of more endless silence was too painful to endure.

"Lucius?" she called, knocking on the door. To her frustration, he did not unlatch the lock. Instead, he called back through the wood.

"Did I wake you? I'm sorry."

"No. I never went to sleep."

"Is your bed uncomfortable?"

"Lucius...let me in."

There was a long, plodding pause, but finally the latch clicked and the door swung wide. Lucius stood on the opposite side, poking his head through the opening, but standing behind it, as if using it as a shield.

"Did you need something Narcissa?"

"I wanted to talk," she admitted slowly, wishing that she had more experience at reading his tired face.

"About?"

She sighed. Why was he making this so difficult? "About your day. You were gone so long..." she bit her lower lip, well aware that she sounded childish. "I missed you." she admitted at last.

"Did you?" he snorted, disbelieving, but then shrugged. "Well, I'm usually in town."

"Always?"

"Often." He rubbed his temple.

"Lucius, about last night..." Narcissa began with a burst of courage. "I-" But he silenced her with a kiss. It was not a caress of passion. Instead, it was the sort of perfunctory touch that one might use to hush a child.

"Later," he said dismissively.

_When_ she wanted to scream, desperately worried that the answer was never.

Lucius moved his lips to her forehead, pressing another soft touch of his lips. "Sleep well, Narcissa," he murmured, and then the door was shut again.

**TO BE CONTINUED….**

**A/N Thanks again for your comments. We read them all and really appreciate them/are motivated by them!**


	9. Masquerade

**Chapter Nine**

**Masquerade**

**By Aulizia and kirixchi**

Narcissa passed the rest of the week with equal dissatisfaction. Although Lucius appeared at breakfast, he confined his remarks to the weather and occasionally to sport. He spent his days in London, and returned long after dinner was served. Once or twice she engaged him in conversation before they went to bed, but never on a matter of substance. He wasn't angry, and she supposed that ought to be a relief, but it seemed almost worse that he seemed to regard her as a little girl who had never grown up.

Happily, Narcissa had the weekend to look forward to. Bellatrix and her husband, Rodolphus Lestrange, were down from Scotland for the week and, finding Narcissa no longer in residence at Ravensden, had arranged to pay a call. Lucius couldn't avoid the visit. In spite of missing his wedding, Lucius had always been one of Rodolphus's closest friends, and he wouldn't dare to snub him twice.

The Lestranges arrived early Saturday afternoon. Mr and Mrs Malfoy were waiting in the drawing room to greet them, but the instant that Narcissa saw Bellatrix and Rodolphus together she wondered if the visit had been a mistake. There was such an ease… an informality… between the other couple that Narcissa feared it would too painfully and too obviously reveal the sham of her own marriage.

Marriage, the word taunted her cruelly as Lucius and Rodolphus began to discuss business. She wasn't married, not in any true sense of the word.

"Cissa," Bellatrix said loudly only a little while after they arrived, "If our husbands insist on being complete bores, discussing stocks and shares, will you take me on a tour of your house? I've always wanted to see the private rooms."

Before Narcissa could answer Rodolphus spoke. "Don't take her," he begged, flashing his sister-in-law a smile. "She just wants to compare this place with Shadowbarrow to see who caught the better man."

Bellatrix pouted prettily, but indulged her husband to a coy smile. Narcissa, on the other hand, didn't dare look at Lucius as she was tugged out of the room. She did wonder if his mind was working along similar lines to Rodolphus's though… except of course Lucius would be considering which of them had married the better sister. She knew there was only one answer to that quandary.

"I must say, I was a little surprised that you and Lucius were so keen to have us come and visit," Bellatrix remarked as soon as they were alone, deciding for herself which passage she wanted to explore first.

"Oh, why's that?" Narcissa asked, sensing instinctively that she wouldn't like the answer.

Bellatrix raised a suggestive eyebrow at her little sister. "You and Lucius have been living under the same roof for all of a week." She giggled, and to Narcissa's amazement actually blushed. "I know I wouldn't have wanted anyone interrupting my first week at Shadowbarrow with Rodolphus."

Narcissa stared fixedly at the floor, praying for something witty and clever and distracting to say to change the topic, however, Bellatrix managed the latter all on her own.

"Although, I suppose it's not quite the same, Lucius only asked us to stay because he doesn't want you left alone tonight," she scowled angrily. "I still don't see why they won't let me go along."

"Go along where?" Narcissa asked, looking utterly perplexed by everything her sister had just said.

"Oh!" Bellatrix exclaimed. She almost clapped a hand over her mouth. "I thought- I assumed Lucius-" she stopped abruptly. "Never mind, forget I said anything," she rushed on quickly. "We'll have a lovely girl's night in, and you can tell me everything there is to know about your dear husband!"

Narcissa doubted very much that it would take all night. In fact, it was highly unlikely that she could fill a quarter hour with information that her sister did not already know. After all, Bellatrix knew Lucius from school, and through his association with her husband. Narcissa barely knew him at all.

"Why so glum, Cissa?" Bellatrix asked shrewdly, frowning at her sister's pallor and downcast eyes.

"I'm just…tired." Narcissa answered slowly. It was partially true. In spite of her comfortable mattress and beautiful room, she hadn't been sleeping well at nights. She was too keenly aware of Lucius sleeping beside her in the other room. He was so close, and yet he might have been a million miles away.

"You look tired," Bellatrix agreed.

"I haven't been feeling well either." Narcissa embellished, keen to have her sister accept this explanation- perhaps inferring that a touch of homesickness had settled in. This plan backfired, however.

"Gracious, Cissa- he hasn't got you pregnant yet, surely?" Bellatrix gasped.

"No!" Narcissa yelped and shook her head. "That would be impossible!" She blurted, and then wished that she hadn't. Any one of her empty headed friends would have entirely overlooked the remark, but her older sister did not.

"I wouldn't say impossible…" Bellatrix contradicted slowly.

At last, the weight of her secret was too much to bear. "Yes," Narcissa squeaked quietly. "Impossible."

She waited for a moment until the words sank in, and then lifted her eyes to Bellatrix's astonished face. "But…" Bellatrix stuttered, her mouth working although words were reluctant to come out. "But…he seemed so pleased!"

"He did?" Narcissa's interest perked.

"Yes…" Bellatrix answered dismissively. "Rodolphus teased him about it. Cissa, it isn't possible that you haven't-"

"We tried!" Narcissa interjected, well aware that she was only digging a deeper hole.

"Tried?" Bellatrix smirked.

Narcissa took a deep breath. Then, the whole embarrassing affair came tumbling out.

"You took sex advice from mum?" Bellatrix asked when she was through.

If possible, Narcissa's blush deepened. "Bellatrix, that's hardly the point!"

The elder sister laughed. "Silly goose. It doesn't hurt- at least after the first time and that's only for a second…you were actually afraid?"

Narcissa nodded dolefully, annoyed that her sister could find humour in the wretched situation. "He's avoided me all week. He won't even be in the same room with me."

"He's trying not to tempt himself," Bella said, the authority in her voice reassuring her sister.

"Do you really think so?" Narcissa asked.

"Of course," Bellatrix took her little sister's hand and squeezed it. "A little encouragement is all he needs."

"But I don't know how to encourage him," Narcissa sighed mournfully. "I can't even tempt him into conversation let alone-" she ground to an embarrassed halt, unsure as to when that had become her goal.

"Bed?" Bellatrix supplied with a wicked grin. "I never thought I'd say it, but poor Lucius. You must be killing him," she laughed again, causing Narcissa to scowl at her, but Bellatrix was enjoying herself far too much to stop. "He's had you held up in this house all week, all to himself, and he's afraid to touch in case you cast a shrinkage hex on his-"

"Bellatrix!" Narcissa gasped.

Her sister smirked. "I'm sorry," she said, not looking sorry at all. "But at least you've taken his over inflated ego down a notch or two, which can't be a bad thing. Honestly, Cissa," she laughed, "you must be the only woman in England to have ever kicked Lucius Malfoy out of your bed!"

"Do you think I don't know that?" Narcissa wailed, her bottom lip trembling. "If you and Rodolphus think Lucius seems happy then it must be because he's off enjoying himself with someone else."

Bellatrix's face turned serious. "Cissa, I didn't mean-"

"Of course he is," Narcissa interrupted firmly, warming to her topic. "He never wanted to be lumbered with me in the first place!"

He had wanted to be married to Andromeda. At the very least, he had expected to be married to Andromeda. Thinking about her eldest sister sent a pang of anger and regret searing through Narcissa's heart, and just a little twinge of… jealousy?

"He told you that?" Bellatrix asked frowning. Narcissa was forced to shake her head. "No, I thought not," Bellatrix continued brightly, "in which case, let's see if we can't set things right for you." Narcissa raised a wary eyebrow. "I'm going to spend tonight teaching you exactly the encouraging techniques you're going to need to have your husband eating out of the palm of your hand."

"Bella, I'm not sure-"

"Unless you'd rather simply walk up to Lucius and tell him that you've had some sense talked into and you've changed your mind – you would rather like him to shag you senseless now?"

"Bellatrix!" Narcissa exclaimed, looking shocked and just a little bit curious. "You can't say that," she fought down a smile.

"I just did," Bellatrix smiled wickedly. "Now, was that the dinner bell?" she asked, listening to the echo of a delicate tinkle that had just filled the corridor. Narcissa answered with a nod. "Excellent, I'm famished, and you, my sweet little sister, are going to need your strength."

..ooOOoo..

Narcissa wasn't sure how she had let her sister talk her into this.

In spite of her sister's pronouncement that Lucius was "going to swallow his tongue" she was certain that she looked ridiculous. The short silver slip and tiny knickers that Bellatrix had pulled out of the bottom drawer had looked more substantial before putting them on. Now that she had, they barely covered her ample curves. To Narcissa's mind, her hair and makeup (purposefully tousled locks and dark, smoky eye shadow) only made things worse, though Bellatrix did not agree.

"Trust me," her older sister had soothed. "You won't regret it."

Perhaps she would have felt less agitated if she were in the familiar confines of her own room. Even after a mere week, she had developed a certain comfort level there. At her sister's goading, however, she had consented to a further part of the plan- she had sneaked into Lucius's bed so that she would be waiting for him as soon as he returned home.

If he returned home, Narcissa thought as she rolled onto her side and stared at the little alarm clock again.

A crawling sensation of dread moved along her spine, causing her to shiver in spite of the quilted blankets. She didn't know where Lucius and Rodolphus were, but Bellatrix had given her enough information to make a calculated guess. It had to do with the cause- she was sure of it, and the forced gaiety that her sister had insisted upon all evening had only made her worry more.

Narcissa didn't ever think that she would forget the hideous shock of seeing her father in bloody robes, or the hollow, aching pain that she had felt when Regulus died. Her cousin had only been a little boy- a little boy who had made a mistake- but he had found no mercy. What if something happened to Lucius? It was torture living in the same house with him while he lingered beyond her reach. How much worse would it be if he were actually dead?

Of course, if he died, Narcissa's life would be her own again… The treacherous little thought refused to completely go away. She would be single again, young, beautiful, rich…it seemed like all she had ever wanted- so why did it terrify her so? Narcissa was confused by her feelings. She couldn't understand why she wanted Lucius so badly- he was the only thing in the world she couldn't have.

Perhaps that was it, Narcissa thought glumly. Two years as a Malfoy- even if in name only- had made her accustomed to indulgence of whims. Wasn't it natural to crave what you could not obtain?

She worried that it was more than that- but wasn't ready to face that question yet. First she would share his body. Then, perhaps, she would wonder about reaching his heart.

Narcissa sighed at herself for even considering the preposterous proposition, and tried to focus instead on what she was going to do. Her skin grew warm as she imagined Lucius's hands on her body again, his lips on her breasts, his weight settling on to her…she snuggled guiltily into the blankets revelling in the treat of being surrounded by his scent. It would be so easy to lose herself in daydreams- to actually fall asleep.

Just as she was drifting off, however, she heard shuffling footsteps approach the door. Her initial instinct was to dive out from under the covers and make a dash for her own room, however something, very possibly fear, kept her rooted to the spot.

She took a deep breath and reminded herself that she was a Black by birth – Blacks were strong, they did what was necessary, and they certainly did not panic!

Narcissa propped herself up in her elbows, striking the sultry pose that Bellatrix had spent over an hour helping her to perfect. She waited in the dark, her heart racing, for the handle to turn and the door to open revealing her husband.

The handle did turn, and the door did open, but her husband was not revealed.

The candles in the passage must have been extinguished, because Narcissa couldn't even make out his profile through the shadows. She waited, heart still pounding, expecting at any moment for him to cast a light and discover her, but she heard only the shuffle of feet and then felt the bed give as Lucius crawled into bed beside her.

Narcissa felt her nerves give way a little, replaced by an instinctive worry. Surely Lucius didn't usually sleep fully dressed? Something had to be wrong. Seizing her courage she edged her way closer to his body, reaching out a hand touch him gently as he spoke his name.

Lucius jolted in surprise, leaping away from Narcissa with such speed that he twisted off the bed and hit the floor with a crash that was followed by a low moan of pain. Narcissa quickly crawled over the mattress, clicking her fingers at the bedside lamps before peering down at her husband, and unwittingly privileging him to a very generous view of her deep cleavage.

"Lucius?" she whispered hesitantly. "What are you doing on the floor?"

"What am I-" he growled incredulously, but stopped himself. "What are you doing in my-" this sentence broke off when a spasm of pain crossed his face.

"Lucius?" Narcissa gasped, slipping off the bed and kneeling by his side. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he groaned, using the bed to push himself to his feet. Narcissa followed when he swayed and stumbled backwards, seemingly unable to support his own weight. Without volition her arms locked themselves around his waist, not that she could possibly support his full weight if he fell, but she knew she had to try.

She was surprised when he accepted her support, leaning on her heavily as he eased himself down onto the edge of the bed gingerly. She was once again in Lucius arms, and once again her heart was racing in fear, except this time her fear was for Lucius and not herself... because, as she held onto him tight, Narcissa could feel the sticky warmth of blood coating her fingers.

"You're hurt," she gasped, terror seeping into her veins as her mouth ran dry. She waited, hoping desperately for him to deny it, but no contradiction came. "Lucius!" she sobbed, as he slumped back against the pillows.

"It's nothing," he sighed heavily, eyes falling shut. "Go back to bed. I'll be all right."

"No," Narcissa whispered firmly. "I won't leave you."

The silver fabric of her tiny lingerie was stained scarlet now, but she paid it no notice, vastly more concerned about her husband.

She didn't bother to quiz Lucius on what had gone wrong. The details seemed immaterial until she had gauged the scope of the damage. Dismissing Lucius's feeble protest, she settled him back on the bed, and then set about removing his clothes.

Narcissa hadn't brought her wand into his room, and she didn't want to risk actually peeling the fabric off of his body, so she reached for Lucius's instead.

"No!" He gasped hoarsely, starting to sit up until his efforts were halted by the pain.

Narcissa blinked, but did as she was told.

"The…other one…" he murmured, his eyes drifting dangerously.

"Other one?" Narcissa's voice held an edge of panic, but she forced herself to remain calm as she tried to figure out what her husband meant. Rooting around in his robes, she found a second wand- the one that she was used to his using at home.

When Lucius nodded, she used the little length of ebony to relieve him of his shirt and trousers. The unfamiliar wand felt clumsy in her hands, but did the trick. Soon she was able to see the slash of crimson running crossways along his chest. After a momentary fright, she was relieved to determine that it wasn't deep and seemed to be closing.

She cleaned it gently with a conjured cloth, and then frowned again. It hardly seemed enough to cause such excrutiating pain.

"Stunners," Lucius whispered his eyes falling shut even as he seemed to read her mind.

Narcissa nodded, and then jogged his shoulder to keep him awake. If he really had been hit by a blast, it wasn't safe for him to go to sleep until he had received medical attention. "I'll call a doctor," she started to say, but he stopped her.

"Cissa, don't."

"Don't? But…" She frowned with confusion. She suspected that her husband had been involved in unsavoury activities- but she also knew that there were plenty of mediwizards who could be paid for their discretion. "I'll just call-" She started, the name of her father's personal physician on the tip of her tongue, but she never got to speak it, because there was a pounding on the front door. Magically amplified, it echoed through the entire house.

For a moment, she was stunned, but then she reached for her dressing gown.

"Your gown," he reminded her to scourgify the blood off of her clothes before she went into the hall.

Blood was pounding in Narcissa's ears as she hurried into the hall. Bellatrix was already standing on the top step. From her older sister's own bedraggled appearance she deduced that Rodolphus had returned in a similar state. Mrs. Lestrange's eyes were wild and indecisive.

"Go back to your room," Narcissa said firmly. There was really no reason for whomever was calling- and she felt certainly that their appearance so soon after her husband was not coincidence- to even know that her sister and her husband were there. Feigning a poise she didn't feel, she headed for the door. "Open it," she said to the elf. He did so, and she lifted her chin to meet whatever was on the other side.

"Miss Black?" She recognized one of the men. He was a young Auror who she vaguely remembered as being a few years ahead of her at school.

"Mrs. Malfoy," she corrected sharply.

He blinked, and then stiffened. "I'm sure you know why we're here."

Narcissa's heart began to pound again. She was too staunchly a Slytherin not to recognize a trap: she could either confess that yes, she did know, or to feign ignorance and implicate herself into Lucius's scheme.

She decided to create a third option: to attempt a bluff instead.

Narcissa sighed heavily. "What has my father-in-law done now?"

"Your…?" the younger auror looked at the man who had accompanied him: a wild-haired, grizzled looking wizard with a chunk of flesh missing from his nose.

"My father-in-law," she sighed heavily. "It's all right, I'll go and fetch him. I just need to change. It might take me a minute. I don't want to wake my husband. He gets in such a state whenever his father…"

"Your husband is here?" the younger wizard said in disbelief.

"Of course," she answered, still avoiding a lie. "He's upstairs in bed where I left him…and I'd like to keep it that way if…"

"Mrs. Malfoy," the second wizard stepped forward, assuming control of the interview. "Your husband was seen in London this evening in the company of Rodolphus Lestrange and other known Death Eaters who…"

"You are calling my brother-in-law a known Death Eater?" she barked as ferociously as she could manage. The aggressive approach seemed to be working. The older man was eyeing her suspiciously. "Mrs. Malfoy, I'm saying…"

"Are you coming back to bed, dearest?"

Narcissa closed her eyes, barely able to contain the evidence of her relief as she felt her husband's presence behind her. She didn't have any idea how he had managed it, but she wasn't about to complain. Quickly, before the Auror's thought to separate them, she turned.

"Darling, its some Auror's. I think that your father's gotten in trouble again, only they won't say what he's-"

"We are NOT here about his father," the older Auror growled, growing frustrated. "Lucius Malfoy you were just seen in London committing acts which-"

"How could I be in London if I'm here now?" Lucius drawled, sounding completely unconcerned. He slid an arm around Narcissa's waist in an intimate gesture, though she was frightened by how much of his weight he shifted onto her back.

"A simple Apparation can-" the younger Auror started, but his partner cut him off.

"I'll need to see your wand," he said sternly.

Lucius arched an eyebrow, but complied, surrendering the strip of ebony that his wife had used to clean his wound.

The auror used a tape measure to judge the length of the wood. "Ebony, 11 ½ inches" he read off. The tape measure sputtered a little bit, and then spit out a piece of paper. Straining her eyes, Narcissa read:

"Ebony, 11 ½ inches. Dragon Heartstring, Registered Owner: Lucius Malfoy, Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire. Purchased 1968, Olivander's Wand Shop, Diagon Alley."

The wizard frowned, but continued to inspect the wand. "Prior incantatem!" He cast, and there was a little puff of silver smoke. A scarlet stain appeared on the floor and then vanished as if it had been hit by a spell.

"My wineglass," Lucius lied smoothly. Narcissa nodded, hoping that the Aurors would believe that it hadn't been the blood she'd mopped off of her gown.

"Prior Incantateum!" the wizard said again. This time, a pile of clothes appeared on the floor. A third effort zapped one of the elves. The wizard continued to cast the spell until the air was finally split by the CRACK! of Apparation.

"Aha!" the Auror said. "I knew it! How will you explain that Malfoy?"

Lucius rolled his eyes. "I came home from work this evening. I have an office in London- perhaps you've heard of it. Now, if there's nothing else…"

Frustrated and embarrassed, the other wizard had no choice but to return the wand. "Good day, Mrs. Malfoy," he snarled, but did not bother offering this pleasantry to her husband.

Lucius remained where he was as Narcissa nodded for the elves to see them out. They waited for the CRACK of Apparation to fade, and then Narcissa turned around. "Oh, Lucius, I-"

He stumbled, and she was barely quick enough to catch him before he hit the floor. "Dobby!" she called for one of the elves. "Help me! Let's put him in the drawing room!"

Shaking, the creature did as it was told, and then Narcissa shooed him away.

"How did you…?" she began, but then she noticed the little flask of vitalis energy potion in Lucius's pocket. "That was so foolish," she began to scold, but she was actually more relieved than anything else. "You should have let me take care of everything," she murmured, trying to make him as comfortable as she could manage on the sofa, before dropping to her knees beside him.

"You shouldn't have had to, but-" Lucius forced his eyes to open a fraction. Narcissa watched; the effort it cost him seemed terribly disproportional to the tiny little movement. "But thank you," he rasped, holding her gaze for as long as he could manage, his eyes burning with an intensity that was only partially driven by pain.

Narcissa could feel a blush sweep over her cheeks. She wouldn't say that she had enjoyed the experience, but thwarting the Aurors had been strangely exciting in a way. She chewed her lips nervously, or it would have been exciting, if only Lucius weren't so badly hurt.

"I really think you need a mediwizard," she said softly, taking one of her husband's hands in her own. His skin was alarmingly cold, but he shook his head as much as he could bear.

"It'll pass," he promised, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze as he spoke.

He said that as if he knew from previous experience, Narcissa thought nervously. Had he come home like this before? She fretted, unconsciously stroking some warmth back into his hands. And what was he involved in exactly that was so very dangerous? For the first time Narcissa wished that she had taken a more active interest in the shifting politics of the time, instead of trying naively to pretend that the world was not changing.

"Lucius, why were you in London tonight?" she asked quietly.

"It's better if you don't know," he said quickly.

"Lucius!" Narcissa exclaimed indignantly. "You can tell me, you can trust me, didn't I prove that tonight?" she raised her eyes to his imploringly. Hadn't she finally done something to please him? She didn't want to be treated like a little girl anymore!

"It's not a matter of trusting you," Lucius groaned as he tried to sit up.

Narcissa hurried to help him once he became clear that he was determined to get up and take himself upstairs to the more comfortable quarters of his room. "Well then what-" she began, trying to ignore the curious quickening she felt in the pit of her stomach as her hands slid over the hard muscles of her husband's body.

"It's a matter of protecting you," he sighed, once again accepting her support as he attempted to stand.

Narcissa frowned, unsure if she should be offended by that remark or not. He tried to make for the door, not leaning quite so heavily on her as he had done earlier in front of the Aurors… despite her irritation, Narcissa felt her body flush with heat when she remembered the intimacy of his arm draped possessively around her waist. His hold on her now was almost paternal, she realised disappointedly.

"Bella knows," she pointedly out churlishly, trying to shake off the way her body wanted to curl into his touch.

"Bellatrix is… different," Lucius sighed wearily.

No, she was nothing like her sisters. Lucius's comment cut Narcissa to the quick. There was perhaps nothing he could have said to silence her more effectively than this reminder of what she was not and could never be. Of course Rodolphus trusted Bellatrix. He'd always trusted her. He loved her and they shared an intimacy that did not admit to any secrets. Whereas Narcissa was…What? She asked herself. A pretty ornament for parties? A mistress for his house? A vessel for his child- no, not even that!

Narcissa drew the white silk of her dressing gown more tightly around her shoulders, grateful that Lucius hadn't seen, or hadn't noticed her attire. Her hopes of enticing him would have to wait for another night.

"Shall I stay with you?" she asked, lingering in the doorway of his room. She didn't think that he should be left alone, but she could have predicted his answer.

"No," he answered firmly. "I'd keep you awake. Everything will be fine in the morning."

Rebuffed, Narcissa did as she was told. She drifted one door down the hallway to the endless snowy white of her room. Obediently she crawled into her bed and closed her eyes- but she knew better than to hope that she could sleep.

..ooOOoo..

Narcissa was waiting for spring.

Although the calendar on her wall read "June", a terrible coldness had settled on her life. She was reminded of the first time she had ever met her husband- how cool and aloof he had seemed then. Now that sensation had spread, so that everything he touched was covered with frost. Even the beautiful things in her room ceased to please her. She wanted Lucius- but he kept pushing her away!

It was a week after her sister's visit when Narcissa finally gathered the courage to try again. She dressed and groomed herself to perfection, and then slipped into her husband's chamber. This time, he was not detained by danger. Like clockwork, just as the clock chimed twelve, her husband slipped into his room.

Lucius was so settled in his routine that he didn't notice his wife. She watched unobserved as he went through the motions of preparing for bed, kicking off his shoes, and then striding to the bathroom. She heard water running and the patter of steps. When he returned, he was clad only in a pair of loose silk pants.

Narcissa's pulse had been racing since the moment he stepped through the door. Fear and worry was surging through her veins. As she watched him, however, a new kind of excitement took precedence. She squirmed on the bed as an ache settled inside of her womb.

He was almost too beautiful.

Narcissa couldn't fathom that she had once discounted his physical appeal. Watching him move about the room- putting away his robes and loosing the leather thong in his hair- ignited a craving she could not suppress. She wanted him. She wanted him to kiss her, to touch her, to take her in ways that she didn't yet fully understand. She wanted to be completed, and she was beginning to understand at last that only

Lucius could fulfil that request.

"Lucius?" she finally spoke as he settled down at his desk, looking as if he was going to answer a letter before coming to bed. His response was instant- and disappointing.

"Narcissa!" he said, jumping instantly to his feet. "What are you doing here?"

"I…" she had anticipated this question. She had rehearsed what she was going to say but now, at the moment of truth, she had forgotten. She could only mumble dumbly, "…thought I would say goodnight," and offer her husband a shy and hopeful smile.

"You shouldn't be here," he said, dashing her hopes.

"I want to be here." There was the faintest whine in her voice. She couldn't help it. She didn't understand.

"You don't have to be."

"Lucius," she abandoned her attempt to strike a sultry pose, sitting back on her knees and scooting toward him. She tried to catch his eyes, but he turned away. "I want to talk to you. I want to…to…hear about your day at work!" she blurted at last, knowing that it sounded ridiculous, but hopelessly out of her depth.

Lucius lifted a hand to his temple and rubbed as if he had a headache. "Go, Narcissa," he said wearily.

"But…"

"Go!"

..ooOOoo..

Lucius waited until he heard the door to his wife's room close before he allowed himself to turn around. He hoped that she hadn't seen the effect that only a few moments in her presence had on his body. Every inch of his skin seemed charged and tense- and she probably hadn't even been aware of what she was doing.

What on earth was she wearing?

Lucius remembered, vaguely, that he had sent round to the best shops in Diagon Alley, giving the shopkeepers a carte blanche to provide his wife's trousseau (he might have let Mrs. Black select them. However, as he would be paying for the garments regardless, it made sense to omit the middle step). He hadn't let her go home for her own things, and she hadn't been shopping to his knowledge. She must have found them in one of her drawers- tiny, seductive little nightclothes- the poor girl probably had nothing else to wear!

He cringed again when he considered what she must think- especially coupled with his behaviour on the night of her first arrival. Narcissa had been so sweet and tender- and he repaid her by acting like the worst sort of letch.

In spite of his self-disgust, Lucius also felt disappointed. For one, breathless moment he thought that she truly wanted to be in his bed. The way that she had been laying when he first turned around: her head propped on one arm, her gorgeous legs unfurled, her body twisted to display an exquisite cleavage- she looked just like he had imagined her there. She looked like she did so often in his dreams: hot and inviting.

That's all it is. A dream.

Lucius's headache returned with full force as he faced the truth. He had been waiting nearly a solid month for some sign from his wife that there was hope to make things right. Night after night there was nothing- nothing but the same, sweet tenderness she had offered him years before. Tonight, he thought that was going to change. He thought that she was finally reaching out…and she had wanted to talk about his work! It was truly disgusting how quickly he had misread her motives, too blinded by lust to see the truth.

He couldn't live like this any longer. It was the most wretched torture to have her dangling before his eyes when she was the one thing that he could never have. Were they doomed to be like this forever? He had tried everything he could think of to make her happy. Perhaps he really should send her home. She would have to return someday. He did require an heir, but fertility charms were available. They were uncomfortable, and expensive, and embarrassing- but then she would only have to endure him once. She could go on living the life she wanted- the life that she could have had if not for her sacrifice in becoming his wife.

Lucius wished that he could control his imagination. Automatically, it flared to life, tormenting him with pictures of what Narcissa's "other life" might be. Perhaps she would have gone to University in London and shared a flat with her friends…she would have had a debut- she probably would have been the debutante queen, surrounded by admirers and suitors.

The last image gave Lucius a particular pang. Was that the reason for Narcissa's discontent? Had she left a lover back at Hogwarts? Jealousy burned through his veins like acid. He didn't want to believe that it was possible- but she was only just out of school. She barely knew Lucius- and the bonds that bound them were the bonds of paper and not of heart.

It had to end soon. He simply couldn't bear much more.

..ooOOoo..

Narcissa couldn't bring herself to go down to breakfast the next day. She only summoned the courage to leave her room when she knew that Lucius had left the house. Even then, she didn't linger downstairs for long. She returned to her chamber to hide soon after midday, asking the elves to serve her dinner in her room- not that Narcissa expected her husband to return and dine at home with her that evening. His abhorrence of her company had been made perfectly clear to her after all - but she was still unwilling to take the risk of seeing him.

She hadn't thought it could be possible to feel any worse than she had done on her very first night at the Manor, but she had been wrong. Narcissa was completely consumed by her humiliation! Her mother, Bella, her own naïve intuition - they had all been wrong… Lucius didn't want her, he didn't lust after her - she must positively revolt him!

Narcissa held back a choking sob. She was sat curled on a chair in her room, an unread book in her hands, wallowing in her own utter worthlessness. Everything was a hopeless mess, but she didn't have a clue how she was meant to fix things! Not if she couldn't even talk to Lucius. Besides, she wasn't sure if things could be fixed, Narcissa thought glumly. It wasn't as if she and Lucius had a relationship to build on and patch up, they were virtual strangers really… except… when he was close, or sometimes… even if she just thought about him, she felt… something… there was something there. Narcissa frowned down at her lap, if only she could work out what it was and what she was meant to do about it.

A soft knock on her bedroom door interrupted her musings. She stared uncertainly at the painted wood for a full minute. That couldn't be Lucius, and yet who else would it be?

The knock was repeated, a little louder this time.

"Come-come in?" Narcissa called hesitantly. She rose to her feet as the door that led from her room out onto to the passage swung open. Lucius stood in the doorway, looking rather weary.

"You weren't at dinner," he sighed, as if to explain his intrusion.

"I had the elves send something up here. I didn't think you would come home," she mumbled staring fixedly at his shoulder, so she missed the flicker of surprise that crossed his face.

"You missed breakfast too."

"I overslept," Narcissa lied, baffled as to why he was standing in her room informing her that she had missed two meals that day.

Frankly, she was surprised he had noticed, but even more surprised that he seemed to care. It made her heart ache. He really did see her as a little girl who needed to be looked after.

"I've been thinking," he said slowly, speaking as if he was reluctant to do so, "about our… arrangement here."

"Oh?" Narcissa breathed, taking an unconscious step towards her husband even though she didn't want to hear what he had to say. Her stomach turned over nauseously.

"I never meant to inflict all of this on you so soon, Narcissa," Lucius sighed heavily, indicating at their general surrounds with an absent wave of his hand. "I suppose I got… carried away, impatient perhaps." Narcissa watched, her mouth dry, as Lucius took a deep breath. "So if you want to go home I won't stop you," he sounded like he was forcing the words out through gritted teeth.

"Go… home?" she breathed softly, her brow furrowing in a frown.

Lucius gave a stilted nod. "You could stay with your parents until-"

"But I don't want to go back to Ravensden!" Narcissa cried passionately, before she had given any conscious thought to what she was saying.

"You… don't?" Lucius stammered blankly, as if he couldn't comprehend what he was hearing. "But I thought-"

"Oh!" Narcissa gasped suddenly, her face crumpled. "Unless you want me to go? I'm in your way? You don't want me-"

"No!" Lucius growled, catching her hold tightly and dragging her against his chest.

For one glorious moment Narcissa thought he was actually going to kiss her, but just as the surprise of finding herself in his arms was giving way to delight Lucius took a frantic step back and pushed her away.

"I'm sorry," he rasped, closing his eyes and dragging a hand roughly through his hair. "I shouldn't have done that. Can you forgive me?"

"Forgive you, but I-" Narcissa trailed off as something new occurred to her.

Could it be possible that Lucius still thought she was afraid of him, that he hadn't realised how very badly she wanted their marriage to be real? Was Lucius still, as Bellatrix had believed, trying to keep her at a distance because he didn't trust himself to get close to her? Narcissa cast her mind back to the previous night. Maybe she hadn't made it clear why she was in his room? She had assumed it would be obvious… but then… she had said something ridiculous about wanting to know about his day… perhaps he had taken her literally?

A tiny bubble of hope filled her heart, but could she let herself believe in it? She might still be wrong. Lucius really might find her repulsive? She risked a step towards him and decided to throw caution to the wind, or at least, she made a tentative attempt to do so.

"Please, please don't send me away again," Narcissa whispered, gazing up at Lucius with wide eyes, a little encouraged by the way he seemed fleetingly dazed and speechless.

"You-you don't mind staying here with me?" he stammered difficulty.

Narcissa had never seen him so uncertain. She gave her head a fierce shake. "I want to stay here with you, Lucius," she whispered.

His eyes flickered shut. "Good," he breathed, as if he had never felt such relief.

Lucius bent low, brushing his lips lightly against her forehead, still so restrained and reserved, but pulling back he almost smiled, Narcissa was sure of it, which had to mean that her theory was correct – he was certain that she would reject him if he tried to touch her.

How was she going to convince him otherwise? Narcissa worried suddenly.

Bellatrix's tips hadn't worked, if anything they had only made matters worse! She needed to think of something new, something foolproof, but at least she was convinced she knew the problem now. The bubble of hope in Narcissa's chest expanded a little. It didn't have anything to do with Lucius not wanting her, if anything it was to do with him wanting her too much!

**A/N: Thank you for your patience over the holidays. Thank you also for your comments. We hope you had a lovely Christmas and New Year.**


	10. Waiting's End

**Chapter 10  
Waiting's End**

Narcissa trailed a fingertip around the rim of her water glass. Lucius was late. She had been deliberately tardy in arriving at the restaurant herself- the first of many little details that she had orchestrated for the evening. She had intended for Lucius to be seated when she arrived. She wanted him waiting and watching as she crossed the room towards him, breathtakingly clad in a dress of blue silk that showcased her curvaceous figure perfectly – but Lucius wasn't at the restaurant at all.

Seated by herself, Narcissa took a moment to think back to a few days before. Her husband had been visibly surprised, but not unpleasantly so, when Narcissa asked him what they were doing for their anniversary. She had smiled brightly and asked if she might arrange something. She assumed that, if left to his own devices, Lucius would organize something splendidly unromantic. In his astonishment, Lucius had nodded his agreement.

And so, Narcissa arranged to meet him after work for an intimate dinner. The meal was to be followed by a trip to the theatre, where they would, naturally, enjoy their own private box.

Narcissa had high hopes for the theatre; she could contrive any number of reasons to snuggle closer to her husband than he ever usually permitted, there would be nowhere for him to run. Given that they would be in public he couldn't take things /too/ fast and panic her again.

Hopefully, by the time they left the theatre she would have given her husband  
enough clear signals to soothe his rattled confidence, because to finish off the night she wanted to return to the Manor and present Lucius with his present: Namely, _herself_... Narcissa took a nervous sip of her water and asked the waiter for the time.

Lucius was _really_ late.

She chewed her bottom lip and felt her nerves redouble. Maybe she had been wrong after all? Maybe _she_ had misread the signs? It had been presumptuous of her to assume that a man like Lucius Malfoy would have any really interest in her. Narcissa felt the little bubble of hope that she had been tenderly nursing burst. He was probably with his _other_ woman now, laughing as his silly little wife tried to play along with the grown ups.

Her eyes pricked with tears.

"Cissa? Narcissa Black- er, _Malfoy_!" called a voice.

Notably _not_ Lucius's Narcissa thought gloomily. She twisted in her chair and saw Olivia Ogrevy walking towards her, dressed in a… waitress's uniform?

Narcissa's face must have belied her disbelief because Olivia pouted and wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"I know, I know, but Daddy insisted! He threatened to make me stay at home with the elves this Christmas when the family goes to visit grandmamma in Australia if I didn't get a job." Olivia shuddered as she spoke. "He says it builds character." She scowled blackly. "But at least Daddy's one of the owners here, so I only do one shift a week and I get to flirt with the customers and boss the rest of the staff around."

Narcissa nodded dumbly, still amazed to see that her old school friend had found paid employment, even if it was only in the loosest sense of the word.

"The register said you were meant to be dinning with your husband tonight," Olivia pried nosily. "Have you been stood up, Cissa?" she asked, with a distinct lack of sympathy.

Narcissa tried not to wince. "I'm sure my husband has simply been detained by business. He'll be along soon, no doubt." Except she _did_ doubt it.

"Too busy to owl and let you know?" Olivia snorted, sitting down in Lucius's place. "You know," she began thoughtfully, "my shift's about to finish. I'm going to meet up with some of the old gang from school afterwards. You should come out with us, Cissa. Be a teenager and not an old married woman for the night."

"I don't know, Lucius-"

"_Isn't here_," Olivia pointed out bluntly, getting to her feet, "and if he does arrive later and _you're_ not here-" she shrugged her shoulders careless "-well, it will serve him right for leaving you sitting on your own for hours!"

There was something absurdly logical in what Olivia was saying, Narcissa admitted as she allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. All her intricate plans for the evening were forgotten. She was tired of feeling old and lonely and unloved. If just for one night she wanted to remember what it felt like to be young and carefree!

..ooOOoo..

Narcissa let her hips snake in time with the music, completely hypnotized by the blatant spark of lust they had kindled in her admirer's eyes. She knew that she was going too far- she ought to mumble her excuses now and return to the table or make her way home, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.

_Just one more song_…She promised herself. One more dance. One more shy  
brush of his fingers against her hips and then it would be enough.

It had been ages since Narcissa had felt so alive- so free!- so much like a normal eighteen year old out for a night with her friends. She had shed the weight of "Narcissa Malfoy". Tonight she was just a girl, just another witch in the city out to have fun.

Her partner's hand slid to the curve of her waist. As the music pulsed and  
thrummed, he slowly worked their bodies closer, until the front of his trousers were brushing her skirt. She was shocked by his behavior, but instead of being disgusted, she was exhilarated. It was strangely empowering, this coarse reminder of her own appeal. Lucius would never be so vulgar…She was annoyed by her subconscious's reminder. Lucius would never let her see how she made him feel-if he even did feel anything for her. She was starting to doubt that it was possible to crack his heavy shield of ice.

"Are you tired of dancing?" the wizard purred into her ear as he pushed against her again.

This time, Narcissa backed away. The game was going too far. She'd had fun for the last few hours hanging out with her friends drinking, dancing, flirting and pretending she was free, but this wizard was treading dangerously close to popping the bubble of illusion with his over-eagerness.

"Not yet," she breathed back into his ear, pulling back slightly.

Undeterred, he put his hand on her hip and steered her close again, "I can think of better places to dance…" he hinted.

Narcissa's eyes flashed up, searching the grinding mass of dancers for her friends, but she couldn't see them. She was almost grateful when she felt a hand on her shoulder- someone was trying to cut in…

…only they weren't.

Narcissa yelped as the grip on her shoulder became painful. Two talon-like fingers pinched the tendon in her neck and jerked her backwards from the floor. "Excuse us," a voice drawled dangerously to her astonished partner. "It's time that _my wife_ came home."

_Lucius_.

Narcissa's stomach flip-flopped like she had just missed a step. Her husband must have come for her after all. When he didn't find her at the restaurant, he followed her here. How had he found her? How much had he seen?

Automatically, Narcissa's eyes darted to the side, expecting to find her husband's face frustratingly placid- but nothing could be further from the truth. She felt a thrill of panic to find his expression as she had never seen it before. It was positively thunderous. The muscles in his jaw were taut with rage and his normally pale skin was flushed. Most terrifying of all were her eyes. Normally calm pools of mercury, they glowed with all the crackling fury storm clouds.

" Lucius, I-" she started to explain, but the rest of her words were lost in a yelp of pain as, relinquishing her shoulder, Malfoy transferred his grip to the crook of her elbow and dragged her out onto the streets.

"Shut up!" he hissed.

She didn't dare to defy him. She concentrated on keeping her feet as he marched her back toward the public floo.

"So, is this how you spend your evenings, Narcissa?" he spat as they entered the transportation hub. "This is why you don't show up for breakfast and dinner?" She started to answer, but a dark glare from her husband informed her that he didn't want an actual reply.

They waited as an elderly wizard took an inordinate amount of time to scatter his powder and shout "Kitt's Hill!" before it was their turn.

Narcissa was about to ask Lucius if she should go first but, again, she was not given an opportunity to speak. Lucius grabbed a heavy handful of powder, threw it into the great, and growled, "Malfoy Manor!" pulling his wife after him before she had time to protest.

Lucius's pincher-tight grip didn't lessen as they hurtled through the floo, or a few minutes later when they tumbled into the fireplace in the blue drawing room at home. Held off balance by her husband's grip, Narcissa stumbled, but he jerked her back to her feet.

"Walk," he hissed.

Narcissa was starting to feel real panic as she was herded toward the stairs. She had never seen Lucius so angry- she had never seen him angry at all. He was usually so serene, carefully guarding his emotions and biding his time until he decided to strike with cool precision. The difference was frightening. What was he going to do to her? She had only been dancing after all!

"Lucius, you're hurting me!" she finally found her voice and tried to wrench away, but her resistance was met only with a crueler grip. She gasped in pain as he twisted her arm- not hard enough to cause actual damage, but plenty for an unspoken threat.

"Where are we going?" she asked again as they went past her door. They went on to Lucius's chamber. "What are you going to do?"

"What do you think?" Lucius sneered and pushed her inside. He released her long enough to close the door. The heavy click of the lock sent a shiver crawling along her spine.

"I…I don't know," she answered truthfully. There was a dark, predatory glimmer in her husband's eye, and she pulled hard against his grip, trying to escape again.

"Don't you?" Lucius said bitterly. "It certainly looked like you knew at the club." He pushed her shoulders hard. Narcissa stumbled back, tripping over her feet so that she fell backwards onto his velvet-covered bed. "Undress!" he snapped.

"Wh-what?" Narcissa's skin began to tingle with alarm. Lucius had already tugged away his cravat and his robes were open from the waist.

"I said, undress."

Narcissa did not obey. She was in too much shock to move. She merely sat there, dumbly, until Lucius's furious fingers started plucking at her skin, ripping her gown from her shoulders.

"Undress!" he roared again. He voice lashed against her like a whip.

Tears brimming in her eyes, Narcissa finally did as she was told.

"Now stand up."

This time, Narcissa complied immediately. She kept her eyes on the  
floor, but she could feel her husband's gaze raking over her body. "Look at me!" he commanded. She didn't obey fast enough to please him, because he roared again: "LOOK AT ME!"

Narcissa forced herself to raise her chin. Through tear-blurred eyes, she saw Lucius glaring back. His gaze held no approval or disappointment, merely more of the horrible wrath that had been pouring out since he first found her at the club.

She had to fight not to close her lids as he reached forward and finished stripping her.

Completely naked, Narcissa had never felt more helpless and vulnerable. It took all of her concentration to prevent her knees from buckling in the face of his unyielding scorn.

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered miserably as he pushed her roughly onto the mattress. She had always known that this night would come- but not like this! It was even more terrible than her mother had hinted!

"Isn't this what you were asking for?" Lucius growled sarcastically as he crawled over her body, pinning her shoulders to the bed. "You act like a little tramp you get treated like one."

Her lower lip began to tremble.

"You play so sweet and innocent- How many men have you had, Narcissa?" he asked in a venomous whisper. "How many wizards have you let have what belongs to me?"

"None!" She wailed truthfully, but Lucius either didn't hear or chose not to believe her. His hands were groping possessively over her skin, branding her with their touch. Nevertheless, she felt a treacherous tingle of excitement.

Lucius momentarily drew away, standing to remove his own clothes. The nervous prickle of alarm coursing through Narcissa's veins increased. She had never seen a naked man before, and there was little to prepare her. The sudden sight was alarming.

Narcissa thought again of her mother's warning- and to Bellatrix. She had thought herself mentally prepared. Now, however, her terror revived. A tremor began at the base of her spine and spread until her entire body was quivering with fear.

"What's the matter with you?" Lucius snapped, suddenly looming over her again. The brush of his breath against her skin felt like fire.

Narcissa confessed, "I'm afraid!"

Lucius scoffed, but then he reached forward to grab her arm and his expression froze. "You're shaking." He said warily.

This time, she merely sniffed, concentrating all her energy to brace herself for what was about to come…only it didn't.

A minute passed in still silence, and she forced open one of her eyes.

Lucius still looked incredulous, and there was still anger flashing in his gaze, but it had lessened from before. He seemed to be mulling over her words, testing their truth. "Narcissa?"

"I…I've never been with a man before, I swear it!" she released in a rush.

"But, tonight-"

"I was just dancing, Lucius," she turned her head to the side and clenched her eyes again, fighting a losing battle against the tears which threatened to overflow. "Only dancing," she repeated quietly. "I just wanted to have fun."

"Fun!" Lucius spat.

"I just wanted to feel…"

"What?"

"I…" she bit her tongue and swallowed what she had meant to say: _Young_. It sounded foolish- even to herself. Narcissa ought to be grateful for what she had: power, money, health. She would have remained silent, but Lucius was staring critically. "I wanted to feel wanted," she finally managed in a miserable whisper.

"Wanted?"

"I'm so lonely!" She didn't know why she bothered to speak. Lucius wouldn't  
understand. Even if he did, he wouldn't care. He didn't care about anything enough to let his feelings show…_until tonight_… a treacherous little voice amended.

"You aren't happy here?" the last of the temper had seeped from her husband's voice. He was calm again. Narcissa wondered, if she dared to look up, could she actually see the frost spreading over his skin?

"I guess so," Narcissa started to lie, but she had already said too much to keep the rest inside. "Not really. I don't know what to do!"

"You'll learn."

She sucked in her breath, astonished to feel his fingers lace through her hair and tenderly rake it from her face.

"You didn't want me," she said nakedly.

"I didn't _choose_ you."

Was there meant to be a distinction?

"You're just..." Lucius sighed and didn't finish. Still stroking her hair, he dipped his chin and planted a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Things will change."

"For the better?"

Lucius sighed again, but not bitterly. His voice sounded wistful. "What do you want, Narcissa?"

"I want…I want to be wanted. I want to belong here."

"You do!" Her heart fluttered a bit at his instant, ardent insistence. "You are my wife…" he reminded, sprinkling another flurry of kisses over her nose and cheeks.

Narcissa shifted and the skin on their bellies brushed. Her muscles began to shiver again with the realization that they were both still unclothed. Now that her fright was passed, she felt an inordinate curiosity.

"Am I your wife?" She whispered, her voice tinged with the faintest insinuation. She had been waiting so long for him to claim his rights, half-terrified and half-thrilled. The waiting was torture. She wanted it to end tonight.

"I…you…" Another new emotion flickered across his handsome features: he was  
flustered.

"I'm ready, Lucius." She said, trying to inject her voice with a certainty that she didn't feel.

"Ready?"

"To do my duty…to give you a son."

..ooOOoo..

Narcissa awoke the next morning in an empty bed. Desolation gripped her like an icy hand- but melted instantly when she turned her head. The bedside table had been heaped with roses, and there was a little note tucked among the blossoms. Narcissa fished it out and read:

_Narcissa,  
I hope you slept well. I didn't want to leave you this morning, but  
I was needed at work- the same matter that detained me last night.  
Hopefully I will be home early this afternoon. I'd like to reschedule  
our dinner if that's possible? There's some place particular that I'd  
like to take you. Unless I owl otherwise, expect me at eight o'clock. _

- Your Husband,  
L.

Narcissa's cheeks pinked in delight as she read the little note. She knew that it was an overreaction- it was only an invitation to dinner after all, but she felt like everything had changed. Two full years after her wedding, she finally felt like a wife. It wasn't just the sex- though she felt a definite twinge of disappointment that her husband hadn't woken her to indulge themselves one last time before he left for the office- she finally felt as if she had glimpsed beneath the cool surface of his icy façade. She  
hadn't imagined before that he might have any vulnerability. It didn't seem possible that _Lucius Malfoy_ would be self-conscious, or anxious, or fearful of being rebuffed. Simply knowing that he was human had gone a long way in reviving her hopes.

_Hope for what_? The thought flittered through Narcissa's mind, but she didn't allow herself to dwell on it. She wasn't going to fall in love with him in a single day, surely? So, there couldn't be any harm in indulging a romantic fantasy for just one night?

Deciding that this was sensible, Narcissa finally dragged herself out of bed. She wasn't hungry, but she forced an appearance in the breakfast room, shocking her father-in-law by bidding good-morning to his brown-haired tart (She was feeling charitable. After all, who could fault them for wanting to feel like she had last night?). After a cup of tea and a slice of toast, she announced her intention to go to town.

Suddenly, the world seemed full of colour and light. It was as if someone had drawn back a curtain, rending everything behind it sharper and more vivid. She had never seen such pretty dresses, or seen a happier crowd.

She made short visit to the couturier, and then to Madame Kiri's and returned to Wiltshire at quarter to six. She lingered over her toilette, primping and priming herself to perfection as the time dragged past. There was no owl from Lucius. So, just as the clock in the front hall began chiming eight, her feet touched the bottom of the stairs.

The last chime had barely faded before a crack of Apparation split the air. A moment later, her husband swept into the room. He smiled to see her. "You look lovely this evening, Narcissa," he said, and bent to kiss her cheek. "Are you ready?"

She nodded her head in agreement. "Oh, yes," she answered. "Where are we going? To London?"

"Not London," Lucius said mysteriously. "I've thought of something else..,

..ooOOoo..

The White Hart was darling little country pub set on the borders of the Malfoy's Wiltshire estate. Narcissa had been expecting a night of glitz and glamour, and found herself surprised when she wasn't at all disappointed to find herself sitting opposite Lucius in the cosy, rustic surrounds of the inn.

She gazed around the dimly lit interior, at the exposed oak beams, the worn  
flagstone floor and the whitewashed walls. There was something so solid and safe about it all that Narcissa found herself smiling at the local witches and wizards who were sitting about the bar drinking and laughing.

"So, what do you think?" Lucius asked, taking a sip of his Scotch, his eyes glowing mischievously.

"Well, it's-"

"Not what you were expecting?" Lucius interrupted with a smile, before Narcissa could assure him that she thought the pub was charming.

It was hopelessly endearing how eager he was to hear her approval, Narcissa  
thought blissfully. "No, it's not," she confessed blushing, "but that doesn't mean I don't like it!" she added quickly.

"You know-" Lucius began, but stopped to drain his glass. "I couldn't have put it better myself," he finished, his voice deliciously low and husky. Narcissa's heart fluttered in her chest, she suddenly didn't think her husband was talking about the quaint little inn…

Narcissa liked the downstairs of the pub, but she _loved_ the room upstairs that Lucius had booked them into for the night. She loved the wide cushioned chair, and the soft carpet, and the large bath, and the small bed. Curled on her husband's chest, gently brushing the damp tendrils of his platinum-blond hair away from his face, Narcissa had never been happier. She chewed her lip; she could have felt this happiness weeks ago if she hadn't been so foolish.

"What's wrong, Narcissa?" Lucius asked, his words slow, and still thick and  
drugged with pleasure.

"I'm sorry I made you wait," she whispered, blushing and burying her head under his chin to escape his eyes. She felt Lucius's body shake as he laughed.

"Not as sorry as I was!" he chuckled, then hooked a finger under her chin and  
coaxed her out of hiding. "I want to take you back to Paris," he declared, "and onto Rome, and Venice and-"

"Lucius!" Narcissa stopped him with a laugh, shaking her head as she did so. "It's too much!"

"Impossible," he growled, claimed her lips in a fierce kiss. "I'd give you the world if I could," he swore against her mouth.

_The world, but not his heart… never his heart._

**TO BE CONTINUED **

A/N: Sorry about the long wait. Since the last chapter debuted, Aulizia has had uni exams and Kiri has quit her job and opened her own business (!), so thanks for you patience. Please comment and let us know what you would like to see/how you feel about the direction of the story. If you want the R version of the story, those of legal age may find it at toujourspur (link in profile).


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